


We Co-Exist

by ThePurpleChronicler



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 01:48:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13400892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePurpleChronicler/pseuds/ThePurpleChronicler
Summary: Kit and his friends plan their escape from the Asylum, but with no luck. When everything seems to be becoming worthless, things begin to become interesting. The Asylum becomes a Beacon for the Co-Existents; the Ghost Tate Langdon, Lobster Boy Jimmy Darling, and Coven Protector Kyle Spencer. Will they escape the Asylum? Or will their differences stop them from working as one?





	1. A Meeting For Four

Their plans hadn't gone so well last time they tried to escape, they were caught red-handed by the security guards, only because Lana was too high-strung and making sure Kit couldn't get out. He's sworn that he isn't the one committing the Bloody Face killings, but nobody believes me, nobody but Grace, probably the only person in the Asylum worth trusting. Lana has kinda' changed her mind, she wants out too now, but it's been a week since she's joined forces with both Kit and Grace, and there's been no plans that seem successful at all, no ideas that have the potential to work. Every day has been the same; smoking among the group, constant quiet planning, even a little joking now and then, but it seems to be getting on everyone's nerves. Nothing seems interesting in the Asylum, especially since they've heard the same song over and over, so much that Kit is about to get up and break the record. Grace was so bored, not even being close to Kit was interesting her anymore, but all their boredom, was about to disappear, and the Asylum was about to become a lot more, interesting.

The buzzer goes off, but not for an escapee, for a new patient, someone new, someone else that is about to be brought into the hell the Asylum is. Kit and Lana jump at the sound, but Grace has been in there too long to be shocked, she's been completely desensitised from the noise.  
"What's that?" Kit asks, starring Grace down like he normally does.  
"New patient, maybe more than one this time, it doesn't normally go for this long. Maybe this new guy is giving the guards a very hard time," Grace pauses staring past the glass doors, seeing the guards moving with a patient. "But I doubt that it would take more than a monster to fight one of those guards."  
"We'll see," Lana says.  
The doors swing open and the patient walks in, the two guards close behind him. He looks different to the others; blonde curled hair, hardly something seen in the Asylum. Grace and Lana have good view of the new prisoner, but Kit was facing the other way. The guards were as pushy as always, but when they tried to push this patient, he turns and grips one by the throat, so hard it makes a clicking noise, heard by everyone.

"What the hell is that?" Kit turns, viewing the patient holding the guard's throat, listening to the conversation.  
"That wasn't very nice, not nice at all. Apologise," the patient says, his head slightly turned to face the other worried looking guard.  
Kit and his friends can hear the guard struggling to speak, only managing to call off the other guard, stopping him from intervening. They can see the change of colour in his face, which makes Kit want to jump in, but then remembers the reasons why he's here, and the way the guards have treated him; like a dog, like an animal, like a mental patient.  
"I think you should tell your friend to at least try to apologise, or he won't last much longer, believe it or not, I have a grip that can kill men."  
"I- I'm so- I'm sorry," the guard says faintly.  
The patient lets go and turns, facing Kit and the others than that's when Kit's face turns grey at the sight. Chocolate eyes, pale skin, blonde hair, the body shape and height similar to his own, same face. Their looks are so similar you could swear their related, twins maybe, everything but the hair seems off, but the face is entirely the same, it doesn't seem right. The two doppelgangers stare at one another like mirrors, like mere reflections at a carnival room.

"You gotta' fucking kidding me," the patient sighs, rubbing his eyes in disbelief.  
Kit looks back at Grace and Lana, his eyes widened like he was madman, face whiter than the whitest of snow.  
"Are you seeing him? Tell me you're seeing him?!" Kit yells, making Lana jump.  
"Yes, Kit. I'm seeing him," Grace says, at least making him feel better.  
"So I'm not dreaming?" Kit asks.  
"I don't even know, Kit," Grace smiles, trying to find humour in the situation.  
"Who are you?!" Lana screams at the patient, who doesn't seem to flinch at her voice.  
"Tate Langdon," he chuckles, walking to an empty table then sitting on the chair, places his legs on the table.  
"Tate Langdon? I've never heard of that name in my life," Grace pauses. "I don't think he's from around here."  
"That's because I'm not!" Tate says, startling Grace and stopping her from saying anything else. "Definitely not from around here, I don't even know where "around here" is."

The second entrance to the stairwell opens, and another patient is taking into the Asylum, but this time, this patient is thrown in. The patient hits the ground hard, hard enough for it to echo through the room, but it isn't long until he gets up off of his feet. The door closes when the patient tries to punch it, screaming at the force his punch has on the door. The patient has slick dirty blonde hair, wears a white tank top and, his distinctive feature, his hands appear to have a claw-like appearance.  
"Fuck you! Asshole fucks!" the patient yells.  
"SHUT UP FREAK!" the guard yells from behind the door.  
The screaming catches the attention of Kit, Grace, Lana and even Tate, causing them all to stare at the new patient, and with the same resulting reactions. Tate and Kit look at one another so a brief second then stares back at the new patient, the one who's face looks exactly like theirs.  
"Don't you know who I am?! I'm Jimmy Darling! I'm the prince of the Freakshow!"  
"Jimmy Darling. I heard that he murdered a cop down near Florida, police came to take one of his family members away, but he didn't let them take the blame for something he did, he's either extremely stupid or extremely brave. I guess you don't really care about that, right?" Grace asks Kit, who still stares at Jimmy. "You're more concentrated on his completely similar looking face?"

Tate stands up and begins to walk towards Jimmy, who is still leaning against the door he came from, eyes closed in absolute stress. He walks slowly and patiently like he was creeping his way to the new patient of the Asylum. Tate begins to whistle as he makes his way to Jimmy, a random tune, one that could easily dig its way into somebody's head. Tate gets closer and closer to Jimmy, his eyes not leaving the sight of the unknown being in front of him.  
"Hey, Jimbo!" Tate screams. "You okay?"  
As the brink of touching Jimmy, Tate is punched in the face and knocked to the ground, the claw-like fist coming directly from Jimmy. Tate rolls to his feet and stares up at Jimmy, whose eyes pierce Tate like a bullet, but he hasn't picked onto their similarities in looks. Tate grips Jimmy's leg and throws him to the ground, making him hit his head on the cold floor. Kit turns and watches the two as they fight aimlessly, contemplating whether or not to stop them. Tate stands up, brushing the dust from his clothes, staring down at Jimmy. Jimmy, in complete frustration, attempts to attack Tate again but is stopped when his arm is gripped by Tate.  
"Look at me, dumb-ass!" Tate yells. "Look at my face."  
Jimmy's face completely whitens in shock, like it's the first time he's seen the reflection of himself, but with a few altercations. Jimmy manages to hold back his clenched claw-like hands, instead, observing Tate completely.  
"Who are you, man?" Jimmy asks Tate, his eyes wide and uncontrolled.

Tate grabs Jimmy's chin, pulling his face towards the view of Kit, making Jimmy stare directly at Kit and his friends. Jimmy's jaw drops like a rock falling off a cliff, and he seems to be speechless, unable to react to the view of two similar looking selves. Kit and Jimmy are shocked by the situation, but Tate just laughs uncontrollably, tears falling down his face as he chuckles like a villain. Kit stands up and walks to the similar beings, facing and observing them discretely. He rubs his eyes again as he looks at both the shocked Jimmy and still laughing Tate.  
"What's so funny?" Jimmy asks, tearing Tate's hand from his chin.  
"This is just so fucking surreal, us being here, the three of us, looking alike. It seems like a dream, hell, I don't even know how I got here, and now we co-exist, something that seems impos-"  
"FUCK!" a yells from the other side of the room. The three Co-Existents look over their shoulder, seeing another guy that looks similar to themselves; blonde hair, a thick build and similar height to the others, and a distinctive eye scar. The guy isn't dressed like the others, his clothes looking completely different and unknown to the others, everyone but Tate, who seems to smile at the sight.  
"Fuck," the guy says. "I don't think I'm in New Orleans anymore."  
Kyle Spencer has joined the Asylum, he seems to know why, and it won't be long before he'll have to explain it.


	2. Reasons For Arrival

Since their initial introduction, all of the Co-Existents have wondered about one another, how they got there, and better yet, who they all are. Even with the knowledge of each other's names, there's still a lot more questions than that, so much more echoing in the heads of the four similar looking beings. Tate didn't seem to care about the location he stands in, but Jimmy and Kyle are already stressing out. Kyle is yet to tell the others where he's from, or better, what timeline he's from, and the others seemed to be extremely interested, everyone except Tate, who is already comfortable with the familiar look of his clothing. Technically, Kyle and Tate aren't patients at the Asylum, but somehow, they both feel like they know why they would be there. Tate already knows he's insane, and Kyle has already been in that head-space, but nobody would believe them both, besides, they don't know each other's stories. Now they are all sitting at a table together; Kit, Tate, Jimmy, Kyle, Grace and Lana, all still shell-shocked about the situation. The only thing that's left for them to do, is to ask away the questions.

"So," Grace pauses, her voice only just audible. "This is just so surreal, but I think- I think all of you should explain your stories. Even you Kit, even know Lana and I already know."  
The four just stare at one another, like it's the first time they've seen their reflections. Nothing seems right to them, especially the silence, everything is quiet, everything except for the other crazies and the stupid french fucking song that keeps playing over and over. The song is already driving its way through Tate, Jimmy and Kyle's heads like screwdrivers, testing all of their patience.  
"Well, I'm Kit Walker," Kit says to the group, taking a big breath in. "I was sent here because of the murder of my wife, Alma, and many other women, but that's the thing, I didn't kill anyone. The Bloody Face murders, that's what they're calling them, that's what everyone thinks I've committed, but I didn't, I'm not a killer. A man named Dr Thredson is trying to prove otherwise, but at this point, I don't trust him."  
"Dr Thredson?" Tate laughs. "He sounds like a convicted rapist."  
Kyle giggles at that comment, which makes everyone look at him weirdly, to the point where he has to apologise.  
"Alright, Kit. Your turn, um, Tate?" Lana says, her voicing making everyone know that she's confused.  
"Well, here's my story," Tate says. "One; I don't know where the fuck I am. Two; I don't really care. And three; I don't think my story really matters."  
Everyone wanted so much more from Tate, but were too afraid to ask, besides, the look in his eyes says it all; he doesn't care about whether he lives or dies anymore. He's just here, and that's all he sees; a location, a playground, nothing more.

The doors open, catching the attention of all of the patients in the room, including Tate and Kyle. Three guards walk in with a woman in a Catholic Tunic, she has blonde hair and seductive blue eyes, her beauty is enough to knock any man out. She stares around the room, straight away noticing the new and very doppelganger like faces, smiling at the sight. Jimmy would normally wink at a woman like that, but even his jaw has completely dropped, and Tate can't keep his eyes off of her. Kit and Kyle were the smart ones, their eyes focusing on something else; Kit's on Grace, and Kyle's at the ground, remembering the woman he was waiting for him at home.  
"Who, in the holy fucking hell, is that?" Tate asks, still staring at the beautiful nun in front of him.  
"Sister Mary-Eunice, Sister Jude's puppet, Sister Jude is the queen bitch of the Asylum," Kit says, looking over at Grace and Lana, a frown forming on his face. "She likes to torture people for their differences; me because she thinks I'm a murderer, Grace because she thinks she's too beautiful, and Lana-"  
"Because I'm attracted to the same sex," Lana says, finishing Kit's sentence.

Before the quiet can swallow the group once again, Jimmy gasps at what Lana just said, his hand placed against his chest.  
"I know what it's like, Lana, to be different," Jimmy utters, his voice filling with sadness as he stares down at his hands. "I'm a freak to society, doesn't matter what I do, I even rescued people from a god damn homicidal clown, nothing changed. I have a very violent psychosis, that's what they diagnosed me with, so violent, I murdered a cop when he threatened my family. I slit his throat like it was nothing, even tried to get rid of his body parts, but the cops found evidence, and they were going to take one of my family members, a young boy named Meep. I wouldn't let him die in prison, so I admitted it, let them take me in, and here I am. Still a freak, but this time, I'm not in a show, I'm in this place, waiting for my time for the electric chair, they haven't told me when, but I feel like it won't take them long to decide."  
"I'm so sorry to hear that," Lana cries.  
Jimmy's story was heart-warming for everyone, even Tate, who believes he doesn't have one, due to his own private reasons. Kyle knows what it's like to have a very rough temper, even to the point of killing, but he knows that his girlfriend will always keep him from losing it. But, for some reason, the thought of Jimmy losing his life due to the protection of his family, it angers him.  
"If you die for protecting your family, Jimmy, I will kill everyone. I swear to you, I'd break you outta' here before they can make that decision, you're not going to die, you understand me? Do you understand me?"  
"Yes, Kyle. I do, that was very unexpected, but I understand," Jimmy says, smiling at Kyle's surprising proposal.

"Well, tiger," Tate snarls, chuckling at Kyle. "What's your story then? If yours is as heart-warming as Jimbo's, spill, otherwise, it better be weird."  
"C'mon, Tate. Give him his space," Grace snarls. "Let him tell it in his pace."  
"No, Grace, it's okay!" Kyle says, looking at her and then Kit, who's eyes are focusing on him. "I'll spill."  
The room had emptied since Jimmy's explanation; no guards, no Mary Eunice, nobody that would cause trouble. Now the group can comfortably listen to Kyle's story, but it seems that they're not going to be prepared for his explanation.  
"Well," Kyle sighs, taking a huge breath in. "To be honest, I think my girlfriend, Zoe, may have possibly fucked up a spell she'd been studying for weeks, she finally acts upon her studies, and well. Here I am."  
Laughing starts around the group, making Kyle uncomfortable like they think his story is completely bullshitting everyone else's. Everyone except Tate is laughing, and Kyle manages to look past the laughing.  
"Do you mean, witch-craft?" Jimmy asks, finishing his laughter. "Like witches and spells?"  
"Well, yes, that's what I meant! My girlfriend is a witch, and a year ago I was murdered when my bus was flipped. I was torn apart, and with some really bad stitching skills and a spell that isn't supposed to be used, I was brought back in a Frankenstein-like state. I know that seems unbelievable, but-"  
"I believe it," Tate says, catching everyone's attention. "And I know you're not from around this time, I saw your Coven on the internet, and I saw you in the background, and plus, your clothing gives it away. This certainly isn't two-thousand and thirteen anymore, am I right?"  
"Yeah, right," Kyle agrees.  
"Why do you believe him?" Lana asks Tate, her eyes stuck with him.  
"I just do."

"Anyway, she must've messed up her spell and sent me here. But she managed to imprint instructions in my head just in case something like this; find the Coal-Oak Tree, I heard it inhabits areas like this, is that right?" Kyle asks Grace, somehow knowing she's familiar with areas like this.  
"Yeah, but it's outside the Asylum, in the woods. That's the problem, it's outside, we're in here, where it's hard to escape."  
"Do any of you plan on escaping this place?" Kit asks. "I know I want to, I'll take Lana and Grace with me when it happens. The only thing stopping us is whatever is in the woods that chased us back here, and Sister Jude, the terrifying bitch."  
"I most definitely plan on it," Kyle says. "I gotta' find that fucking tree."  
"Is it possible? Can we escape this place?" Jimmy questions the topic, thinking hard about it.  
"Yes, we've tried more than once, and we've gotten pretty far," Lana states. "Even with the Dr on our tale."  
"If there's more than just three of us, then yes, we all have our own skills, we can fight whatever crosses our paths, and then we can escape," Kit explains, his voice acting as a beacon of hope. "I believe so, and if it means saving your life, Jim', I'm willing to do whatever it takes."  
"Same here," Kyle agrees, smiling at both Kit and Jimmy. But then their attention goes to Tate, who has said nothing.  
"What about you, Tate?" Grace asks. "Do you want to get outta' here?"  
"At this point, I'd help you guys leave, but I'd stay."  
"Why?" Jimmy questions. "Why would you stay in this hole?"

Their questions were already getting to Tate, pissing him off in every single way, to the point of driving him mad. He's always hated being flooded with questions, especially when it reminds him of the things he's done. And all of the questions were about to make him say things he doesn't want to.  
"Because I have nothing. No home, no family, no girlfriend, no joy in my life. I've fucked all of that up! Split-Personality-Disorder, that's what they've diagnosed me with, describing it as being a murderer on one side, an angel on another. I don't have a witch-girlfriend, a family that work a show together, or a significant other like Grace is to Kit, I don't have any of that. I've done bad things, I've murdered people, teens like myself, and grown-ass men. I'm not what you guys think I am, I'm a killer, a monster. I fucked up my last relationship up because I raped my girlfriend's mom, but I swear to myself that it wasn't the angel side of me, it wasn't in my control. But that doesn't change the fact that I did it, I fucked it up entirely, I don't deserve happiness like you guys. Messing my love-life with Violet Harmon, is most definitely, the worst thing I've ever done. If only all of you knew exactly what I am."  
Tate's story makes everyone speechless, everyone. But nobody seems disgusted or anything like that, they seem concerned, probably due to the tears rolling down his face. Jimmy and Kyle place their hands on both of his shoulders, trying hard to calm him down, and it seemed to be working. For some reason, all of the Co-Existents trust one another, like they're family like they were born to meet one another. It was indescribable for all four of them, but they somehow looked past it all.

Grace and Lana thought it'd be best to change the subject, but they couldn't find anything to talk about. That was always a problem with the Asylum, you could easily run out of things to talk about, especially with the same things happening every single god damn day; same music, same people, same company. That was before everything became interesting in this night. So many things were running in both of their minds, so they decided to speak about it.  
"This is just, so fucking surreal," Grace gasps, staring around at the Co-Existents. "I can't even describe."  
"You guys may look alike," Lana says, halting her speaking for a moment. "But you're all totally different people. Different personalities and stories, but there is something that you guys have in common, you all are caring. Even if you've made mistakes, you all still care about the people you've hurt in some way."  
Tate kinda smiles at Lana's words, which makes her know that he listened to her little speech. Kyle removes his hand from Tate's shoulder but Jimmy continues to comfort Tate, Kit even making sure that he's okay. They seemed okay at the moment, the quiet didn't seem so bad anymore, and Tate talking about his story appeared to have helped him somehow, which made everyone happy. Their attention on one another seemed nearly unbreakable, that was until Grace spoke again.

"Guys, we have a creeper staring at us," Grace whispers to the group, catching their eyes to the direction of the door.  
An elderly looking man stares at the group, wearing what look likes a Doctor's gown, his face is all wrinkled and he looks rather skinny for his age. But the murderous look in his eyes, the psychotic stereotypical scientist look, that's the thing that catches their attention. He was staring at the four, and everyone knew exactly why.  
"Who is that creeper?" Kyle asks. "I've seen a lot of shit, but this guy creeps me the fuck out."  
"Dr Arden, another puppet to Sister Jude, even if they hate each other, he's always working for her," Kit explains. "But I fear he has his own little experiments that he works on, and it sends shivers down my spine."  
"Yeah, where I'm from we have a thing that lurks around the attic, but he scares me more than that thing," Tate says.  
"What's he staring at, Lana?" Jimmy asks her, watching her as her eyes trail from Arden all the way back to the group, and that's when her face goes white.  
"Jimmy," she halts. "He's- he's staring at your hands."  
Her words catch the attention of everyone, making them all watch the frail old man as he stares straight through all of them, so much, nobody expected Kyle to stand up and make his way quickly towards him. Kyle's sudden move makes the rest of the group question what he's doing, none of them tries to stop him as he walks towards the old man and the two guards beside him.

"What the hell are you wearing, subject?" Dr Arden says, staring Kyle down. "Guards! Take him to the laundromat."  
The guards attempt to grab Kyle, but Kyle surprises them, pushing one across the room violently, then flipping the other one onto his back, causing a loud shock-wave to appear in the room. All the group is shocked, gasping at the sight of how strong Kyle really is; strong enough to knock two grown men completely off guard. Tate even seems interested in how strong he is, for a human anyway. That's when Kyle's face is inches away from Dr Arden's.  
"One; don't try that shit again. Two; don't stare, man! And one more thing; keep your Nazi-looking face to yourself, you understand?" Kyle asks, his eyes staring directly at the Doc's.  
Dr Arden's reaction seems futile; angry and confused by his use of words, and immediately leaving the room, not caring about the guards who just got their asses handed to them. Kyle turns and smiles at the rest of the group, even laughing at the thought of what he just did. He notices the smiles on everyone's faces, even Tate's, and even when his smile matches the other three Co-Existents, he still finds it a sight to behold. So far, their company has stopped him from having a panic attack, and it makes him forget about how worried Zoe may be right now. He wishes he could contact her, but then he remembers that they can help him find the tree he needs to find, they can help him escape, and he will help them. But for now, the group will get up to more shenanigans, perfect way to kill time while they plan their escape plan, a plan with the combination of all of their skills, may actually work.


	3. Night Shifts And Personal Stories

The time had come for every single patient to be locked up in their own specific cells, but there was a big problem, well technically two. Jimmy had been giving his specific cell, but Tate and the unexpectedly arrived Kyle, they were still waiting to be directed to their own cells. The group had discussed how and where Tate and Kyle were going to stay, and the only idea they could come up with, is the attic, the one place no guard nor patient would be willing to look or enter. Tate didn't think too much about it, as he's used to hiding in an attic, but the others didn't know that. Kyle, on the other hand, he was a little reluctant about staying in a dusty old attic, but even if Tate got his own cell, for some reason, he wouldn't let Kyle stay in the attic alone, he enjoyed Kyle's company. Right before the guards entered the roaming-room, Tate and Kyle had left quietly, making sure to say their farewells to Kit, Jimmy and the young women. Now they were stealthily lurking around the Asylum, searching for the entrance for the attic, and even if their chances of being caught by guards is on a high level, they thought it'd be best to start another topic.

"So, New Orleans, huh?" Tate asks as he looks around a corner. "How is it?"  
"It's good, I was born there. Never really liked it until I met Zoe, I was a bit of a drug addict, and my mom was, complicated."  
"Yeah, my life was complicated too," Tate sighs.  
"Was?" Kyle questions, confused by his particular use of words.  
"Is, it is complicated. You're not the only one who used to take drugs, hell, I still do whenever I get my hands on it," Tate replies.  
Tate follows Kyle as they make their way to a locked door that is specifically titled 'Storage Unit', but Kit had previously told them that it was really the entrance to the attic and that it was called something different so patients wouldn't hide in there, as helpful as that is. Tate stares at Kyle as he tears off the door-knob, shocking even himself at how easy it is.  
"What the fuck? How can you do that?" Tate asks, staring at the door-knob that know sits on the ground. "That's not natural."  
"You're not wrong, it's a side effect of resurrection. Some people have it different, some don't have any effects at all. I used to know someone who could eat and eat, and feel nothing, another had zero effects as she brought herself background being burnt alive, and me? I have an extreme temper, and enhanced physical strength, the angrier I get, the stronger I get and I feel less pain. I've gotten used to protecting the Coven I serve, as well as killing the ones who try to hurt my Zoe."

Kyle's explanation had most definitely relieved Tate of over-thinking about the similarities this attic was already having to the one he's completely used to, and it made him a lot more interested about Kyle's life and how different it is in comparison to normal human life, he's never met a witch, so the protector of one seems close enough for Tate. But something was bugging him, maybe it was the sense of dignity Kyle had on him at all time, his ambition to protect the ones he loves, it didn't confuse Tate, but it made him jealous in its own sick way.  
"I could never imagine that," Tate says, catching Kyle's attention halfway up the stairs.  
"Imagine what?" Kyle asks.  
"Fighting for someone else. I used to have someone, you know? Someone to fight for, someone to love, someone to share stories with and kiss under the moonlight. Violet Harmon her name was, still is, and I miss her so much. If only I wasn't such a fucking arrogant monster, and let my evil side take over so easily. I fucked things up, I didn't mean to, but I did, she's all I want and she's all I need. Now, all I do is fight for myself, and I feel like I won't stop until I have her back."  
"You'll get here back, Tate. You're smart, you just need some patience, she'll find you when she's ready," Kyle says, trying hard to comfort Tate.  
"I raped her mother, dude. I doubt it, but if you're right, I owe you a fucking hug, maybe a kiss on the cheek if you're lucky," Tate jokes, staring around the empty and dusty attic. "This place is a sight for sore eyes."

Kyle laughs at Tate's joke and finds a good spot lay down on, clearing the dust away for at least a comfortable look. Tate just lays directly on the first spot he sees, not even removing the webs and dust, which confuses Kyle like nothing else.  
"I feel like you've done this before?" Kyle jokes, giggling to himself.  
"Plenty of times, buddy. More than I can count, so probably about nine times."  
"Shut up, dickhead!" Kyle laughs, finding himself getting more and more comfortable as they continue to speak.  
"Kyle Spencer. Tate Langdon. Jimmy Darling. Kit Walker. All four of us are here for a reason," Tate pauses. "In all honesty, there is a fifth one of us, but I doubt he can leave the place he's stuck in, I really hope he can't leave anyway, he's a complete psychopath," Tate explains, his eyes closing slowly.  
"Who is he?" Kyle asks, interested in their 'fifth' Co-Existent.  
"His name is James Patrick March, and a few months ago I appeared in this Hotel, I don't know how similar to this place, I don't know how I got here. He's a serial killer, I had to Google him to find out how bad he really was, and this topic is already giving me the creeps."  
"I hope we never meet him, ever. Goodnight Tate," Kyle says.  
"Goodnight Kyle."

Jimmy has been placed in a cell directly beside Kit's, close enough for them to be able to talk, talk without even having to yell. Grace and Lana were the only people Kit would talk to, and they are always in the section the cells for the women are, so it's good for him to be able to talk to somebody he can trust. Jimmy and Kit have already gotten along well, they both understand one another positions, and they can both talk about Tate and Kyle on good terms as they both have the same heart-warming opinions. Even though it was too late for them to be up, they wouldn't stop talking to one another, they were comfortable talking, which was something Kit didn't experience until he met Grace. Jimmy didn't seem so lonely anymore, and now they were on the topic of what it was like for Jimmy to live with his family, a topic that Jimmy didn't mind too much.

"Shows. Food. Glory. That used to be my show motto before all of the bullshit happened," Jimmy finishes, laughing at his own story.  
"That sounds like a nice life, Jimmy. I was a simple mechanic, with a very interracial marriage, among other things. Now I'm here, fighting to stop myself from going to the electric chair, just like you. I know how hard it is just to keep going, but I tell you, we're going to get out, all of us," Kit pauses, listening to hear if any guards are nearby, noticing no unusual noise. "We're going to help Tate find his way out, help Kyle find the tree he needs to find, and then we'll sort out what we're going to do. Whatever happens, I'm taking you back to Florida, and, I'm taking Grace and Lana with me. I swear to you, Jimmy, we'll find our way out."  
"I really hope so, I want to see my family again, I can't leave my mom, sure, nobody from the town I used to visit will trust me anymore. But I'm sure Maggie will trust me."  
"Maggie?" Kit asks.  
"She was a girl that worked in the Freakshow, she was a definite interest to me, if not her, Bette and Dot. Bette and Dot share a body, but they have two separates heads, two separates brains, among other things. It's complicated, but I hope to see them again."  
"I understand you, Jim. I miss my wife, I wish I knew what happened to her, but there's something about Grace that drives me crazy, she trusts me, loves me maybe. I think I love her, but I'm not too sure, whatever happens, I'm going to have her in my life," Kit says. "Even if others think I'm a murderer and a crazy."

Kit had become quiet for the first time in an hour, and Jimmy didn't know if it was because of fatigue or just because he was over the topic, but to no surprise, Kit had started to talk again.  
"I swear to god, Jimmy. I was abducted by these little grey men, and they experimented on me, tortured me in their own sick fucking way. Nobody believes me, nobody but Grace, and I have a feeling you'll believe me somehow. I feel like they took my wife, did whatever they did to her, and then made me think I did it, but I know I didn't kill Alma, I couldn't. I-"  
"I believe you, Kit," Jimmy says, interrupting him to stop him from stressing himself out. "You believe that I'm not a freak, that I'm special in my own way, so I'm definitely going to believe you. I've seen some shit, and I know crazy when I see it, and you're not crazy, Kit. You're probably one of the most trustworthy men in this place, equal to Tate, Kyle and myself. I trust all of you, and I won't stop, I don't know why but I believe that we can all get outta' here, together."

After their in-depth conversation, they were completely fatigued, they'd made themselves tired just from talking. Kit was happy that Jimmy already trusts him and the others, the last thing he needs is more people hating him, so it was good. Kit could already hear Jimmy snoring in his cell, fast asleep like he's drunk too much, and it makes Kit smiles crazily. He stares at the ceiling, thinking about whether or not he could do anything to stop his wife from disappearing, but he knew there was nothing he could have done. He wonders if Kyle and Tate are safe in the attic, but tries hard not to stress too much about it. He rolls on his side, getting comfortable on his bed, thinking about Grace for the fifty-thousandth time, the more and more he thinks about her, the more and more he loses himself to what he thinks is love.


	4. Familiar And Terrifying

It's the next morning, and the group has met up once again, excited to see each other after a long night of uncomfortable sleeping. The whole group is moaning and bitching about how strained their bodies are, especially Tate and Kyle, who slept uncomfortably in the dusty Asylum attic. The group were already seeing how close Kit and Grace are becoming because now she was basically sitting on his lap while they all speak amongst themselves. Tate was being quiet as usual but told the group that he has a bad feeling about this day like something is going to go down today. The group also noticed how watchful the guards were being today, especially to Tate and Kyle, must've been because they didn't have their own cells, or maybe it was for something else. Everyone seems like they're on edge for some reason, which was unusual like there was a melancholic gas lingering in the air, and the group didn't know what they were about to deal with.

"The guards are acting different today," Grace adds. "Something isn't right today."  
"They're not normally watchful?" Jimmy jokes, staring around had how many guards are in today.  
"Not this watchful, never this watchful," Kit says, speaking for Grace.  
"Has it ever been like this, Grace?" Kyle asks, curious about the guards and how they normally are. The more they know, the easier the escape plan will be.  
"Not since I've been here," Lana says, looking through the glass on the existing door.  
"It has once," Grace pauses. "Since I've been here, it's only happened once."  
"And?" Kit questions Grace as he shifts on the chair, grasping her to make sure she doesn't fall off of him. "When was that?"  
"When a very important, A.K.A. psychotic, patient comes in. A patient that is capable of killing anyone and anything if he or she wants to, so whoever is coming in today, is worse than anyone else that has ever been. Guards don't normally have more than batons, and they're carrying guns on them this time."  
"We'll see about that," Tate growls, causing the group to stare up at him. "I've done some things, and I swear, there's only been one person that has really creep me the fuck out."  
"Who?" the whole group ask.

The glass door opens, and more guards enter, a lot more. But these ones are different, they're wearing some form of armour, and carrying bigger and worse weapons than the guards at the Asylum. The guards follow Sister Jude, Sister Mary Eunice and Dr Arden as someone is carried behind them, a new patient, a patient in a strait-jacket. The patients head and mouth is completely covered, everything but their eyes, that stare across the room murderously, looking at everyone they can reach. The jacket is so thick, the group can't even tell if what gender the patient is. The sight of the patient makes stomachs turn, everyone except for Kyle and Tate seem worried, they've killed plenty of people to know scary from not, and they both wish that wasn't true. Everyone is curious about who the patient is, to the point where even the mindless patients stare aimlessly at the person in the strait-jacket. That's when Sister Mary Eunice decides to speak, cutting off Sister Jude entirely.

"Hello, fellow patients! We have a new patient today! Someone that isn't, I repeat isn't to be interacted with! Anyone that is caught interacting with this patient, will be inevitably punished, extremely and violently punished. This person is hateful, murderous, and has killed an unconfirmed amount of people, he has some devilish secrets and is willing to do whatever it takes to keep them. I allow only the best of us; Sister Jude, Dr Arden, some of the elite guards, and I, to access his cell. Half of you won't listen and try to investigate, and you will suffer the consequences harshly. This is all I wanted to say, and I hope that my message was clearer than the glass we just past through, thank you for kindly listening."

The group watch as the guards begin to trail the patient away, and that's when its head turns, staring at the group, but then, specifically Tate. The patient's eyes begin to fiercely stare at Tate as he shakes his body violently, trying hard to break from the jacket. The patient screams in the muff of the mask on its face, shaking as it tries to scream through the mask to Tate. Tate doesn't flinch at the patient's actions, instead, chuckling to himself to confuse the group.  
"What the fuck are you laughing at, Langdon? That was terrifying!" Jimmy yells, staring at the similar chocolate eyes.  
"Yeah, what the hell?" Kit asks.  
"Not really," Tate snarls. "You think that was scary, you never saw Rubber Man."  
"Rubber man?" Lana questions. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
"My alter ego, my, bad alter ego. Serial killer alters ego, monster alters ego. It was a suit that controlled me, every time I put it on, I had to do something bad, so I did. I don't really feel like bringing it up."  
"It's cool man, forget about it," Kyle says, placing his hand on Tate's shoulder once again."  
"We won't bring it up again," Kit adds.

"So?" Kyle asks. "Are we going to find out who that patient i-"  
Gunshots and yelling begin to enter the nearby hall, following glass breaking and what sounds like people screaming.  
"What the fuck?!" Jimmy yells.  
"Grace?" Lana says. "What's going on?!"  
"I've never experienced something like this, nothing like this has ever happened before!"  
The other patients are beginning to panic, rushing past the opened doors and to their cells. The guards pull out their batons and revolvers, but aren't aiming for the straggling patients, but instead, focusing on the door the notices are coming from. The guards actually influence all of the patients in the room to go back to their cells, including the group. The group stand up and wander to the different part of the room, and instinctively, Tate and Kyle stand out front, protecting the group, and Jimmy and Kit stand in front of Lana and Grace, inevitably to protect them. They don't know what's about to happen, what's about to enter those doors, but they all know, that it won't be good.

The door breaks away from the hinges and two guards follow it, hitting the ground with an indescribable force. The gunshots continuing in the halls echo violently in the ears of everyone in the room, loud enough to make ears bleed if close enough. Kit feels Grace shake at the sight of the 'elite guards' being tossed out of the hall like they're bricks. A bloody guard crawls from the hall, his revolver aiming up at the patient in the now broken strait-jacket, and firing the rest of his bullets. The bullets hit the patient in the chest, causing blood to drip and squirt onto the ground, but strangely, it doesn't make the patient flinch at the pain, or the sound, he just keeps walking. When the patient is close enough, it grabs the guard by the throat, picking him up in the air like he weighs five pounds. The patient tears off a layer of its face-mask, and now it can speak, revealing what sounds like a muffled male voice.

"Who are you?! How did I get here?!" the patient screams in the bloody-faced guard.  
"I am not authorised to spe-"  
"YOU WILL SPEAK! OR YOU WILL DIE!" the patient yells.  
"Hey!" Tate yells, catching the patients attention straight away. "Drop him!"  
Two of the guards in the room open fire on the patient, hitting him in the shoulder and upper chest, which just pisses him off more.  
"Fools," the patient says, throwing the revolver of the guard he's strangling at one guard, and the actual guard at the other, knocking both of them out cold. The patient then looks at Tate with murderous eyes, like he most definitely knows and hates him. "You."  
"Yeah, me. I know who you are, we met months ago. The same thing happened, but only to me, we co-exist, but this time, it's not just us two," Tate explains, watching the patient as he begins to take off his head-coverings.  
"I'm surprised you remember me, Tate. I'm impressed," the patient says, tearing off the rest of the fabric covering his face, revealing the face Tate remembers more than he wanted to; pale face, thin moustache, black crazed hair. It was him, it was the one person he didn't want to see in this place. "Hello, Mr Langdon."

The groups fall silent, even Tate, who a few seconds ago was about to intervening and try to help that guard, even when he didn't want to. Everybody stares at the man as he begins to tear the bullets from the holes in his body.  
"Who is he, Tate?" Kyle demands, startling the entire group. "It's not him, is it? Tell me it's not him?"  
"I guess he's spoken to me, huh? Yes, yes, yes, I thought so, even Tate Langdon couldn't think about his superior," the man laughs hysterically. "I'm glad he told you about me."  
"What are you talking about, Kyle?!" Kit yells, holding Grace's hand from behind him, protecting her from another similar looking being to him and the other co-existents. "Why does he look like us?!"  
"He's the final one?" Jimmy gasps. "There's five of us, and he's the last one. What's his name, Tate?!"  
"I don't know-"  
Kyle grips Tate by the neck, tight enough to stop him breathing. Tate hasn't experienced a grip like this before, the mere brutality in the grip causes him to wheeze for breath, and his heart begins to skip a few beats. Kyle was losing his temper, and Tate now knew what happens when he does. "Tell them the truth, Tate!"  
"Alri- Alright," Tate wheezes from his mouth, showing the group that Kyle's grip is slowly suffocating him. "His name is James. Patrick March. A- And. He's like us, brought here unexpectedly from wh- where he's from. He has a way outta' here, and I have a feeling, our ways of getting back are similar if not the same. He's the worlds, biggest, serial killer! Kyle. Please. Let go."

Kyle's eyes become darker as his grip becomes tighter, he fights the urge to break Tate's neck, but it doesn't seem to work.  
"Let go, Kyle!" Lana begs. "Please."  
"C'mon, Kyle," Kit says, walking towards Kyle with extreme caution. "Let go of him."  
"No, Kyle," March smiles. "Keep strangling him. It feels good, doesn't it? His life in your hands, but there's only one thing."  
March shoots one of the guns from the guards and it shocks the group, especially Kyle, who unintentionally breaks Tate's neck due to the startling sound of the gun.  
"NOOOO!" Kit yells frantically.  
"Kyle!" Jimmy howls, watching Tate as his body ragdolls to the floor.  
Grace covers her mouth in shock, tears rolling down her face as she digs herself into Lana's shoulder. Lana's face drowns itself with tears, and Kyle's face goes light grey, and he can't believe what he just did.  
"What have I done?" Kyle says to himself, staring at Tate's lifeless body. "What. The. Fuck. Have. I. Done."

March laughs hysterically at the group's reaction, his sadistic murderous laugh echoing through the entire room. His laugh doesn't stop, even to the point where he points the gun at his own head and makes a *boom* sound. Kyle stares up at March, his eyes growing worse than before, and his temper most definitely being tested. Kit and Jimmy also death stare March as he continues to laugh without worry, watching as Kyle moves closer to him, his out ready to grip another throat.  
"Look what you MADE ME DO!" Kyle screams, launching at March, gripping his throat and pushing him into one of the beams in the room. "You made me kill Tate!"  
"Is that what you think?!" March yells, placing the gun right on the side of Kyle's temple. "You are all incompetent, ignorant mongrels! You know nothing of this world! There's more than just witchcraft, freaks and aliens! I could kill everyone single one of you except for your friend on the floor, goddammit! Tate has secrets, everyone has secrets, Kyle! I shoot, you're gone for good!"  
"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!" Kyle yells, his grip tightening.  
Tate gasps for air, his grey face suddenly gaining colour once more. The sound of his gasping shocks everyone but March, who just smiles at Kyle as his neck is let go. Tate begins to shuffle himself around, his neck cracking back into place, staring around the room with what looks like bloodshot eyes.  
"Tate?" Jimmy sighs.  
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr Langdon, well, kinda'," March smirks.


	5. Ghostly Secrets

The room had fallen completely silent at the sight of Tate's formerly lifeless body rising back up to its feet. It's impossible, the entire group heard the violent break of Tate's neck and saw the body hit the ground like a rock, and now, here he is; standing still, trying to keep balance as he caresses his neck, like he has whiplash. Kit wanted to say something, but tightening the grip of Grace's hand stops him, instead, causing him to stare into her eyes. Jimmy doesn't know what to do, so he continues to protect Lana from the situation, his claw-like hands covering stopping her from moving where he is. And then there's Kyle, standing still and shocked to see what he's now seeing, and he's seen probably more than anyone else in the room, maybe except March. The only thing that breaks the group's attention span is the sound March makes when he drops the gun onto the floor, but it happened to startle Tate more than anyone else.  
"What the fuck?!" Tate screams, looking straight at Kyle with his now normal eyes. "YOU BROKE MY NECK!"  
"I'm sorry, man!" Kyle says, already prepared to be on the defensive. "I didn't mean to."  
"Yeah right-"  
"It really was his fault Tate," March speaks, cutting Tate off, only to piss him off more.  
"YOU SHUT UP, MARCH!" Tate screams again, loud enough to hurt everyone's ears. "I'LL DEAL WITH YOU IN A SECOND!"

Tate talks a few steps towards Kyle, staring him up and down in the process. Kyle could tell that Tate was infuriated, the darker look in his eyes said it all; he wanted to kill, he wanted to hurt something. The moment as tense and everyone was on edge, everyone but March, but that wasn't a surprise to anyone. After his last step, they're in each other's faces, staring directly into each other like two wolves about to start a brawl, and it scared the rest of the group.  
"I told you to let me go, Kyle," Tate sighs. "I told you to."  
"C'mon, Tate. He didn't mean it," Kit says from where he stands, causing Tate's eyes to look directly at him and Grace.  
"He didn't mean it? He didn't mean to break my neck? You know how ridiculous that sounds?" Tate snarls.  
"I know, I know. It was an accident, I swear to you, I never had the intentions of killing you. I thought I did kill you, I thought I had just killed one of the only people in the world that understand me, and that terrified me, Tate. How are you, alive?"  
"He's not," March says as he pulls out the last bullet in his chest, then wiping the blood onto what's left of the strait-jacket. "He's never been alive, not since he's been here anyway."  
"What?" Jimmy says, baffled by what the sadistic March just said. "What does that mean?"

March laughs at Jimmy's question, and it confuses everyone, well, almost everyone. That's when Tate becomes silent again, stepping away from Kyle and towards the chair, he sat at when the group was talking happily like he was preparing to explain something extremely important to the group. Kit and Jimmy take a few steps away from the girls but still stay close; especially Kit, he's always protected, Grace.  
"Are you okay, Lana?" Grace asks.  
"Yeah, yeah. I'm just being quiet, I'm a little scared," Lana says. "I need to get outta' here."  
"We will. We'll get out," Jimmy mumbles, trying hard to stay quiet also.  
Kyle's just staring at the feet, everyone can tell that he feels devastated by what he did, and he won't forgive himself, he won't let himself, not until Tate forgives him. But that was when March decided to open his mouth again, to dig his way into Tate's head once again, now, the group knew how easy he can do it.  
"Go ahead, Tate. Tell 'em! Tell them our little ghostly secret, feed their lustful minds, murder their imaginations, and show them what the world really inhabits. Tell them that there's more than just monsters out there."

"Nineteen years ago, I lost my god damn mind and then decided to go on a cocaine-driven spree. It was a school day, and I got dressed, loaded my guns, packed them in my car, then went off to my step-father's work. First thing I did was set my step-father on fire, that was the beginning of my day, but it was about to get a lot worse. I drove to my school, my guns at the ready, and that's when I started murdering students; bullies, jocks, nerds, my own friends, I just started killing, and I remember enjoying every second of it. By the end, the final resulting number was fifteen, the blood of fifteen lives was on my hand, and I remember every single name and their ages. This next part, this next sequence replays in my head over and over, and it doesn't seem to stop. The students told the police what I did, and it wasn't long until they broke down my door. A S.W.A.T team broke down the door of my room, and I remember feeling nothing; no fear, no worry, no anger, nothing at all. And like that, I was gunned down, I deserved it, I was a murderer, I still am, and I deserved to be put down. I was killed that day, but I didn't stay dead, the Murder House I lived in, people don't stay dead when they die there, their spirits stay there, they become Ghosts. Where March and I are from, the two specific locations are beacons for the undead, and now, we're the living dead, we're ghosts. So, that explains why Kyle breaking my neck didn't kill me, because I'm already dead, we're already dead."

Tate's explanation seems so surreal to everyone. Ghosts? Existing? Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to everyone, but somehow, he's being believed by everyone; Jimmy, Kit, Grace, Kyle and Lana, they all believe him. They've all seen some shit, but now, they've seen nearly everything, including Tate 'dying' but coming back to the land of the living. Now the group knew that both March and Tate were already dead, but there were still so many more questions that formed from his explanation, but for now, the group was going to stay away from more questions as much as they possibly could.  
"So?" Lana says, breaking the silence. "You're a ghost?"  
Tate rolls his eyes savagely, then uses his ghostly abilities to appear directly in front of Lana, startling her and Jimmy, who stands centimetres away from her. "Yes, I'm in fact, a ghost."  
"Are you okay, Tate?" Kit asks, noticing how hurt Tate looks just from having to explain what he did. "Kyle didn't mean, he was startled and it was an accident. We wouldn't lie to you."  
"We swear," Jimmy agrees.  
Tate looks back at Kyle, who still stares everywhere but at the group, then he appears to him, surprising him. Tate stares Kyle right in the eye as he decides what he's to do next, and what he decides is surprising more than anything. He drags Kyle into what looks like an extremely comfortable hug, digging Kyle's head to his shoulders.  
"I'm sorry, Tate. I make mistakes, I always do," Kyle cries.  
"It's okay, brother," Tate says, feeling Kyle's arms snap onto him. "It's okay."

"Um, guys?" Grace says.  
"Where's March?" Kit finishes, staring around at the hugging Co-Existents.  
Kyle and Tate break away from the hug staring around the room; March is completely gone, clearly used his ghost abilities to find himself away from the group, clearly to cause trouble. The 'elite guards' know that March is a ghost, that would explain the amount of security, but even Ghosts have limitations, strait-jackets are clearly one of them.  
"This isn't good," Lana comments.  
Fuck!" Tate yells. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"  
"He's gone?!" Kyle asks, confused. "How is he gone?!"  
"Should we be worried?" Jimmy questions, staring around the room for any sign of where he could have gone.  
"Yeah," Tate says, quickly. "We really fucking should."

Dr Arden works in his laboratory, mixing samples of his formed diseases with one another. Sweat rolls down his face as he slowly drops droplets of his finest experiment together, he thinks what he does is normal, but others wouldn't think so. It's been years since he was promoted to physician and Administrator at the Asylum, and he knows he's done some unholy things in those years, including his alteration of normal humans to his own creation, to his Raspers.  
"Fine work you are committing yourself to, I'm impressed, and it takes a lot to impress a serial killer."  
The sound of the strange accent scares Dr Arden, making him drop the samples on the ground, but due to his fear, Arden couldn't get mad at the being standing in front of him.  
"You? How did you get in here?! I thought the elite guard-"  
"The Elite Guard?" March interrupts Arden, laughing horrifically at what he had just said. "I tossed and broke your 'elite guard' like they were god-forsaken sticks, but I'm guessing, you're little imperfect head thought otherwise. And the unholy bitch of a nun needs to tighten up here security. She seems like she scares you? My wife, well, my ex-wife is the most terrifying but exhilarating woman I've ever seen."  
"What do you want, March?" the brittle old man says.  
"I want to know how I got here, and I want to know why I can't simply use my abilities to appear out of this place, but that's a mystery to even you, isn't it? So I'm going to skip that annoyance and go straight to my point."

Arden was annoyed at March because he confused him. Arden doesn't understand March, he doesn't have the mind of a killer, only a mad-scientist, March knows everything about his own world, so the fact that how he and the others got here is a mystery, that pisses off March. But March doesn't show any sign of being annoyed, instead, laughing at how terrified the psychotic doctor looks.  
"I want to help you with your experiments, with your raspers, yes, I've been watching you. But I can help you, I can help you exceed your progress, make your alterations better and more sustainable," March pauses suddenly, staring around the disgusting laboratory. "I want to give you a solution, one that doesn't include a lot of work, and study. I want to make sure mankind survives."  
"And how do you propose that, James Patrick March?" Arden questions.  
"An old friend of mine, he doesn't exist yet, John Lowe, he taught that patience is a virtue and that all actions can have a drastic effect, as long as you know how to commit those actions. Now, you've heard of Jimmy Darling, have you not?" March asks an evil grin appearing on his face. "Well, what If I told you, I may have a solution to your problem, and his mutation on his hands may be the key?"  
"I'm listening."


	6. When Everything Goes Sideways

Jimmy kicks open his cell, holding it open until the rest of the group finds themselves inside, it was time for their game-plan to begin construction, now that March is in the Asylum, nobody is safe. Now was the time to begin planning, all of the guards are either unconscious or discretely looking for March, basically asking for their own death-wishes, but there is nothing to do about that. Everyone's still tensed up, even with Tate and Kyle making up, nothing would make the group forget about what happened moments before, but for now, it was time to let that aside and create a plan that would definitely work. Plan A, B and C, that's all they need to find their way out, and now, that was the hardest task for the day, besides not getting caught by the remaining elite guard. The kill count was small at this point, the group had only seen one dead caught, but how he was murdered was unforgettable; March must've impaled him, because he was caught in the wall, with his rifle in his stomach, and his face basically torn off, the sight made Jimmy and Lana almost sick. The other patients locked in their cells were being overly loud, good enough for no guards to hear the groups discussions, and Tate doubts March would waste his time on patients at an insane asylum, the most he'd do is torment them, still a horrible thing to deal with nonetheless.

"We need to discuss our plans, it's time. The elite guard are searching for March, and after seeing what he's capable of doing-"  
"What we're both capable of doing," Tate snarls, breaking Kit's speech.  
"Yeah. After seeing what ghosts are capable of doing, I doubt the guard's attention will be on us."  
"How are we supposed to know where to go? You said there were tunnels that led out, right?" Jimmy quizzes, looking Grace up and down. "Grace? Kit? Lana? You guys have tried before, right?"  
"Yeah, there are tunnels in the basements of the west wing, we got as far as the inner woods, that was until," Grace stops, remembering the first experience of the woods.  
"And then what?" Jimmy asks, demanding the rest of her explanation. "What happened?"  
"We were chased back up the tunnels by something, something that isn't human, too agile and way too animal to be human. It was only us three, and it seems like there may be a dozen or so of them out there, so us three wouldn't be able to survive whatever is out there."  
"I doubt there'll be a problem, I've killed a full grown guard-dog, among other living creatures, if it comes to it, I'll protect us," Kyle says, catching everyone's attention.  
"You won't be the only one," Tate adds. "I'd kill for anyone of you."  
"We'll all protect one another," Lana utters. "Some of us don't have enhanced strength or ghost abilities, but we're still useful in our own way."  
"We will, we'll protect one another," Kit says, ending their informal discussion.

The room begins to become louder, the patients become crazier, like animals affected by the presence of a predator. Things were getting tense, and you could tell that Kit and Grace had been privately discussing an escape plan since they met, their smiles said it all; they were full of hope and were already thinking about what their lives are going to be live when they leave, like lovers in a novel. Lana just wanted to leave the hellhole, she had already lost her girlfriend to Bloody Face, and she felt bad for ruining Kit's chance for freedom the first time, so now, now is her time to prove to him that she isn't fucking around. If they were going to plan their escape, it had to be at this exact moment, the volume was perfect, which was something nobody would ever say in the hellhole the group currently laid in.  
"It's time, guys!" Kit yells. "It's now or never!"  
"Alright, we can-"  
"THERE HE IS!" a male voice yells from outside of the cells, his footsteps creating a heavy effect like he was wearing thick armour, clear one of the elites. By the sound of how many footsteps are trampling outside, there are a few men outside, guns ready. But were they referring to March specifically? Or someone else? Whoever they were referencing, the group was about to get an insight on how serious and messy the situation was about to become.  
"Dr? What are you- OH MY GOD! HE'S WITH HIM! OPEN FIRE!"

Gunshots echoed in the halls, followed by the sound of yelling. Tate slowly begins to stand up, staring through the bars of the cell, seeing armoured guards firing at the end of the hall, their eyes saying it all; their bullets aren't working. Their machine guns roared like beasts, trying to best and scare away their threat, but it didn't seem like it was working. And like that, one guard's head is gripped and crushed like a weak fruit, and March is on the inflicting side of the killing, smiling as he does it. Another guard attempts to continue firing at March, but is quickly stopped when his neck is gripped and snapped by the homicidal maniac, but the killing doesn't end there, he wouldn't let it. There are only two guards left, and one tries to run, but March's ability to appear is used sufficiently, quick enough to be able to catch the fleeing guard and use his own gun to impale his throat. Tate watches it all go down, and after everyone that Tate has seen, this is indescribable, a torturous sequence that his brain won't let him forget. The last guard gets to his knees and tries to beg for mercy, but if he really knew March, he would know that begging won't do anything.  
"Ah, I love it when they beg!"  
March kills him quickly, slamming his head so hard into the cell bars the group sits in, that his head basically trembles to nothing, and the blood goes everywhere, including the inside of the cell and onto everyone.

Tate and March's eyes meet through the bars, and the smile that follows brands Tate's mind, breaking his spirit with his weapons; fear and self-inflicted agony. March is a psychopath, everyone that's met him knows that, and the fact that he looks like the other Co-Existents, doesn't make Tate feel any better. Tate once looks at himself in the mirror and thought that he's the only person in the world that looks the way he does, but clearly, he was wrong, dead wrong. Now, his opinions have changed, he knows better, but at the same time he wishes he didn't, he wishes he didn't know the things he does now, and worst of all, he wishes that March never existed, and the sadistic bastard wasn't staring straight through his soul. The thickness of the blood sickens him, and warmth from it drips from him like a broken tap, as it does with everyone else in the room. Lana throws up at the feeling, even the tough bitch that she is doesn't seem to be able to handle it, Tate thinks that's good, a natural reflex, a reflex that tells you that you're human, he wishes he could have that once again.

"Hello, Mr Langdon, long time no see," March sarcastically says, chuckling to himself. "Doc', they're in here."  
"You son of a bitch!"Tate yells in the face of March, spitting at him.  
"Let us out!" Lana screams.  
"Oh, you'll get out! I promise, but Dr Arden here," March pauses, allowing Arden to reveal his spine-tingling presence. "Has a few things he has to do before then."  
"Like what, asshole?" Jimmy snarls, standing up next to Tate to stare at the psychopath and the mad-doctor.  
"Ah, Jimmy Darling, just the man we need!" Dr Arden chuckles. "I guess it's time I do this then!"  
Smoke begins to rise from March and Arden, releasing into the cell the group stand in. Kyle tries to break open the door, but he struggles, succumbing to the tight lock the door has been subjected to. The door is locked and the smokey gas is submerging the cell, causing everyone's breathing to become harsh and a lot harder.  
"Kit?!" Grace panics, feeling around for her love in the thick gas.  
"Grace?! Stay still!"  
"I'll kill you both! I promise you!" Kyle growls, snarling like a wolf at the two men as he slowly begins to pass out.  
"Look at them, Doc. Crawling around like cockroaches, sickens me," March smiles. "No, no, it condemns me to a life of boredom. Now, go get Jimbo' and I'll do the rest, you understand?"  
"What do you want from this? What could an undead serial killer want from something like this?"  
"Me? Nothing, Doc. Nothing from you, I just love the thrill of the chaos! Now, why don't you fuck off, fetch Jimbo', and leave me to my work?"  
"Whatever," Arden snarls.


	7. The Fall

Darkness, smoke, and the sound of coughing. That's all Tate could remember as he passed out, which seemed unnatural to him, ghosts don't normally pass out unless they're 'killed' again. Is he dead? Dying? Any form of the suffering he thinks he deserves? No, he knows that feeling, and what he's feeling now isn't that, instead, he feels fatigued, heavily fatigued. But this place is different, everything seems different in the Asylum; full of unnatural forces that run rapidly like a herd of rabbits escaping a pack of dogs. Darkness, shadows, night, they all confuse Tate deeply. "But Tate, you are the darkness", the words of Violet's sweet voice is unforgettable, doesn't matter what brand of cigarette, pot or coke Tate gets his hands on, those words never leave his mind. Maybe she was right, maybe he is the darkness, a devil that fell in love with the sweetness of an angel, a devil that wouldn't change his nature to be with his love, and then suffered the consequences for not doing so. Tate is full of anger, sadness, and the worst of it, regret, and March's presence just triples the amount of melancholy in his heart, driving him to the point of either a murder spree, or a mental breakdown, and that in itself terrifies him.

"Woo-hoo? Wake up, Mr Langdon?"  
The accent in the voice knows how to crawl under anyone's skin, polluting it, disturbing your mind from the inside out. March is the worst killer in the world, most definitely the most dangerous, and that was before he became a murderous spirit, a creature impossible to kill, can't kill the dead. Tate was the same as him, but still, they had differences; Tate showed the slightest bit of compassion, care for his 'basement mother', and even love to the angelic creature that he lost in the light he couldn't step in. March doesn't have any of those qualities, Tate knows he was married at one stage, but to a complete psycho nonetheless, well, he hopes anyway, who would want to marry a murderous freak like March?  
"WAKE UP TATE!"

Tate launches out of his slumber, gripping March but the throat in a serious temper-loss, feeling the vertebrae in his neck twisting and turning in his grip. He stares up at the smiling March, watching as his smile slowly becomes a concerned look, makes Tate' whole day. March quickly grips Tate's hand, holding it steady as he winks at Tate's psychotic and murderous staring face.  
"Now now, let go, Tate."  
"Fuck you," Tate snarls.  
Tate watches as his hand begins to cover in dark devilish tattoos he used to dream about, March's negative energy was already feeding off him, moulding him into the creature he doesn't want to be anymore. Just like last time, it begins to feel good, the negative energy swallowing Tate's hand whole.  
"Never forget who you are, Tate. You're just like me, a killer, a psychopath, we should both be causing havoc, killing guards side by side, I guarantee there'll be more coming."  
"I'm nothing like you, you son of a bitch," Tate snarls again, his eyes staring March right in his similar chocolate eyes.  
"You're exactly like me," March smiles, twisting Tate's hand, going from a soft twist to a harder one, making him let go immediately, the tattoos fading from the break of touch.

Tate stares around the room, his blurry eyes slowly become normal again, he's never experienced anything like this, he's never been normally this fatigued, only when he slits his wrists, and his wrists are fine. The room is familiar; he's back in the Wandering Room, the patients aren't in the room, and Tate doesn't know if the rest of the group is here with him, he still can't see straight. But that's when he hears it, the muffling sound of someone's mouth covered, his eyes begin to clear. And there they are; Kyle, Kit, Lana and Grace chained to different columns in the room with their moves covered in tape, they look safe, which is relieving. Tate stares over behind the columns, and there are more dead guards, completely mutilated like the rest; one has a gun barrel jammed in his eye and straight through his skull, another has his inners mixed with his outers, and the last one is literally torn in half, entrails laying beside a fire axe, clearly the murder weapon. Those guards didn't deserve a death like that, but Tate had to look past it, the living mattered now, but there seems to be something wrong with the group, someone's missing, Jimmy.

"Where the hell is Jimmy?!" Tate yells, demanding an answer. "What have you done with him?!"  
"Me? I haven't done a god damn thing, Doc Arden on the other hand, he's experimenting," March smirks, laughing at the answer he'd just given Tate, knowing it'd just cause more havoc.  
"What have you done?! What did you say?!" Tate screams, watching March slide off the rest of his broken strait-jacket, revealing his patient clothing.  
"Aha! You are smart, Tate, you know exactly what I did. You're right, I said something to compel Arden into experimenting on little Jimbo! Our mad-scientist has been altering humans into something else, something, not even I have ever imagined. But don't worry, he's not experimenting with him quite yet, in fact, you probably have a half an hour before he begins. You can save him, you know!" March recites, egging the group on as they listen to him. "But there's something you have to do for me, first."  
"What?" Tate questions. "What is it you want me to do? Huh?! I'M ALL EARS!"  
March laughs at Tate's sudden piercing anger, finding it the most amusing thing he's ever seen. He walks over to the rest of the group, pulling off each piece of tape on every member's mouth, grunts and gasps following it.  
"You motherfucker," Kit gnarls, trying to reach out for March.  
"I'd kill you if you weren't already dead," Kyle states, amusing March further.  
March walks back to Tate, stopping directly in front of him, a big smile branded on his face. "I want you to choose which one of the girls dies; Lana or Grace. I want you to kill the one you choose, pick her up, and then throw her off the top of the balcony, then, I want you to watch her as he falls to the death, the impact of the floor killing her instantly. There's a lot of science behind the glory the kill with having, but for now, we'll put that aside, and I'll let you think. Who's going to be the one to die?"

"No, Tate!" Kit begs. "Don't listen to him, you don't have to kill anyone!"  
"Tate?!" Kyle screams. "Listen to me, we can beat him."  
"He'll just kill all of you! I KNOW HIM ENOUGH TO KNOW WHAT HE'LL DO!" Tate screams back.  
"He's right, you know," March states, laughing at the matter like he always does. "It's either one of them or all of you."  
"Shut. The. FUCK. UP!" Tate roars, breaking from his chains in his rage, surprising even March.  
"Hold it, tiger. You know for a fact that you can't dismiss me from this world, I've already been dismissed from life! But you can test your might, it will do nothing!"  
Tate stops in front of March, feeling his hot breath on his face as they stand inches away from one another. Tate wants to break March's neck, then place something heavy on his head so he can't heal from the broken neck, that'll incapacitate him for the remainder of his life, well, in theory anyway.  
"If I do what you say-"  
"Then I'll tell you where Dr Arden has taken him," March finishes, smiling viciously at Tate.  
"How do I know you'll tell the truth?" Tate questions, contemplating even listening to March, and not snapping him in half.  
"After hearing one of the girls fall to their deaths, and their inners meet with their outers, I'll be so compelled to tell you. Just think," March pauses. "Their life, for Jimbo's."

Tate turns and stares at the group; Kyle's eyes speak for him, telling him not to listen to him, Grace and Lana are weeping like babies, and Kit's face is greyer than the purest of grey. Tate's mind begins to tear itself apart, he doesn't want to kill anyone, he's done with the killing, he committed his crimes and they did nothing but make him suffer more and more. Now here he is, stuck in a situation is will be forced to end in a death, another death on his hands, it feels wrong, Tate doesn't want to be in this position, doesn't want to choose who dies. But March wasn't going to let him leave until he makes his decision like he said; he'll kill everyone if Tate doesn't kill one. Tate looks over at the girls, his face shifting white as his decision begins to become clearer, he was a hypocrite now, he was about to make his decision, kill one of the innocents, just like last time.

"Grace," Tate gasps, choking down his tears.  
"What did you say, Tate?" March quizzes, starring Tate up and down.  
"I choose Grace."  
The whole room falls silent; the girls' weeping stops, Kyle stops begging, and Kit seems to stop breathing, his face turning a hybrid between red and grey. Tate knew what he had just done, he had just started a war, a war that not even the dead could win.  
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Kit hollers, his body trying to wiggle and tear from his chains. "I'LL KILL YOU!"  
"I'm sorry, Kit," Tate utters. "I'm so sorry."  
"YOU WILL BE!" Kit screams.  
"How could you do this, Tate?" Grace cries, her tears drooling onto the floor. "I thought I could trust you."  
"Excellent!" March cheers, walking over to Grace and breaking off her chains. She tries to escape, but March grips her and picks her up walking to Tate and passing her over to him. "Now, walk over to the balcony, and drop her!"  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Kit cries, shaking and dragging around like a maniac.

Tate doesn't have a choice, he has to do it, or he'll kill everyone, and Tate couldn't have all of those lives on his hands, one is a burden, six is a devastation. Tate holds down his tears, walking towards the balcony, and in the process, his mind ignores everything in a depth of thoughts. His doesn't hear anything, not Kit's rants and Kyle's begging, nor Lana and Grace's crying, he hears nothing. Grace's weight seems like nothing, she's weightless, a feather being carried by a giant, and Tate doesn't flinch at the feeling of her struggling, only makes her succumb to her position. He can feel her fear, taste it, and smell it, there's no hiding how terrified the brown-haired and blue-eyed woman is, and Tate couldn't help but feel, how much Grace reminds him of Violet, his true love.

"Little miss Nora would be proud of you, Ta-"  
"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER, MARCH!" Tate screams, his arms stretching out, Grace now floating at the edge of the balcony. "Nora Montgomery is the sweetest woman I've ever met, and I'm lucky to call her my mom! And she wouldn't be proud of me for doing what I'm about to do."  
Tate stares down at the balcony, staring at the wooden blanks connected together and then the still crying and terrified Grace. She begs him not to do what he's about to do, but he turns his now crying face, sucking in air hard.  
"Tate, please," Grace begs, her tears dropping down onto the floor, a long way down.  
"I'm so sorry, Grace."  
"Don't you do it, Tate!" Kyle roars, his voice echoing through Tate's head. "Please!"  
"DON'T DO IT!" Kit snarls.  
"Please, don't!" Lana cries.  
Tate looks at March, tears slowly rolling down his face. "Where is he? I'll kill her when you tell me."  
"He's in the west wing, down hall five, there's a metal door, I'm sure both you and Kyle could tear it open."

Tate bites his lips, hard enough to make it bleed, the blood drooling down his lips. This was going to be the hardest thing he's ever had to do, besides having to let Violet go, and Nora not speaking to him due to the evil deeds he had committed. Tate was alone in his own world, not even his Co-Existents will trust him anymore, he'll be alone all over again. He's sweating uncontrollably, his blood mixing with his sweat and tears. He can feel himself falling apart, the beautiful woman in front of him sucks down her tears like she's accepted her situation, which makes Tate feel worse.  
"Kit," Grace pauses, sucking in air and sniffling her tears. "I love you."  
"GRACE!" Kit yells, watching Tate as he drops her off the edge, indefinitely to her heart-breaking end.


	8. Saving Darling

Jimmy awakens, already feeling the straps on his arms and legs. He struggles to keep his eyes open, but manages to attempt to shift around the cold metal surface he lays on, but with no positive results. He stares at his lobster-form hands; they're completely strapped to the table, with wires attached to them, and, he doesn't have feeling inthem. His face becomes grey at the sight of his hands, the wires, and the sharp tips pierced into his palms. The room doesn't look familiar; the concrete walls, the shelves with beakers and containers all over them. The labels don't appear to be English, instead, German. Jimmy had seen a lot of shit in his time; from a homicidal clown to his own father beating the shit out of him in front of a cafe. It's confusing, not only the fact that Jimmy has no idea where he is, but why he's there in the first place, it's both a terrifying and vexing experience for Jimmy, and he's about to get an answer for his questions, just not the way he wanted them.

"Mr Jimmy Darling," a voice says from the dark, startling Jimmy and stopping him from wiggling in the straps.  
Jimmy watches as Dr Arden walks into the light, wearing his scientist gown and what looks like a microscope on a headpiece that he wears. The look of him tells it all; he's preparing for something, something experimental, something evil and horrific. Jimmy shakes at the look of the mad scientist, thinking about his intentions, and better yet, what state he'll be in by the time he's done.  
"Let me outta' here, you fuck!" Jimmy snarls, his body lifting up in the air, still strapped to the table. "And get these god damn wires out of my hands!"  
"Interesting seems your diagnosis; Homicidal Ideation is true. You have a serious case of a violent psychosis, and you're showing that clearly, and I find it indefinitely interesting," Dr Arden chuckles, starring Jimmy in the eye. "So far anyway."  
"What are you going to do with me?" Jimmy questions, staring around at a nearby table, seeing sharp utensils and syringes. "Kill me?"  
"No no no, I'm not going to kill you, I'm going to do something a lot more, productive," Dr Arden says.  
Jimmy slowly lowers himself down to the table again, wiggling his hands, watching the blood drip from the now open wound. Dr Arden walks over to Jimmy, gripping his arm to stop him from making his wound bigger, the crimson liquid flowing down his palm and onto the ground of the room.

"Stop! You'll ruin them!" Dr Arden squeals, strapping his arms tightly to the bloody table.  
"RUIN WHAT?!" Jimmy roars, shaking his head insanely.  
"Your hands! They're important to my research, your DNA will be the elapse of a revolutionary evolution of the human kind, with your DNA, I'll be able to make my raspers far more evolved than before. You need to trust me that you are the key to the survival of the human race, capable of surviving nuclear fallout, among the worst of the worst. Your hands, although you think are a burden, may be the key to rapid healing and maybe even the re-growth of human organs. And I will be taking that DNA with your without your pitiful consent."  
"My friend will find you, they're going to find me, and then, I'm going to kill you myself," Jimmy smiles, laughing as his head hits the cold steel of the table.  
"I highly doubt that proposal, our good friend Mr March is taking special care of your friends as we speak, and, let's just say, they will be busy for the time being. So I have all the time in the world for our little experiment. So are you ready?" Arden asks.  
"FUCK YOU!"  
"Let us begin."

"Kit," Grace pauses, sucking in air and sniffling her tears. "I love you."  
"GRACE!" Kit yells, watching Tate as he drops her off the edge, indefinitely to her heart-breaking end.  
Tate pulls off a piece of the wooden balcony, creating a perfect spear shape, then, throwing it towards March. The homicidal killer attempts to catch the piece of wood, but misses, instead, feeling it as it pierces his chest, impaling him through the heart and incapacitating him. March hits the ground like a rock, the sound of his fall echoing through the entire asylum. Tate disappears from the view of the others, appearing on the bottom floor of the Asylum, watching Grace as she continues to fall down to him. To his surprise, his speed is quick enough, allowing himself to appear mid-air to catch her, then allowing her to use him as a shield before impact, creating a safe landing for her. During their violent impact with the bottom floor, Tate feels every bone in his back crack viciously, but he did what he wanted to; he created a safe landing for Grace, saving her life indefinitely.  
"Are you okay, Grace?" Tate wheezes, struggling to speak with his nearly broken spine.  
"What the fuck, Tate!" Grace yells. "You dropped me!"  
"It was part of the plan," Tate whispers, trying to smile. "March told me where Dr Arden has Jimmy, I had to make him believe that I was going to do what he said, I was never going to kill you. I used myself as a shield to save you because I can't die, I'm already dead, I'm sorry I used you as the subject, but It was a part of my plan."

Grace helps Tate up, holding him up to make sure he doesn't fall over, then kisses him on the cheek. During her kiss, Tate can feel her shaking from the experience, and it makes him feel terrible, not only because he used her to make March vulnerable, but because there was a possibility that he wasn't fast enough to catch her, but he won't tell her that.  
"Thank you for catching me and, you know, not letting me die."  
"Don't mention it, I mean it doesn't, I need you to meet the rest of us in the room, and quickly; the west wing, hall five. You'll see a large metal door, and I need you to get there, NOW!" Tate demands, ordering Grace to run off and find the door, and she does exactly that with no attitude. Now the plan is really in order; Saving Private Darling.  
Tate appears back on the top floor, welcomed by the view of the still impaled March, and the still tied up Kyle, Kit and Lana.  
"Tate," Kyle sighs, his arms still trying to break from his chains. "Help us outta' here, please!"  
"There you are you son of a bitch, I'll kill you for what you!" Kit snarls.  
"Chill out, Kit! Grace is fine and safe, I made sure of that, she'll meet us at the hall five of the west wing. So, are you going to let me untie you, or not?" Tate says, crossing his arms sarcastically.  
"Grace is alive?" Lana gasps, shaking her head to fling away the tears on her face.

Tate walks over to Lana, gripping her chains with both of his hands and bending them until they shatter completely. Tate stares at Lana's blood red wrists, seeing the damage the tightness of the chains had caused on her. She's only human, but she's tough, she's even said so herself, she is no cookie. Tate watches Lana as she slowly stands up, leaning against the pillar she was formerly chained to.  
"Thank you, Tate. I'll be ready to leave in a moment," Lana smiles.  
Tate stares at Kyle, gripping his chains and breaking them, easier than Lana's, must be the effect Kyle's constant struggling had on the chains.  
"Thank you, Tate," Kyle smiles, bringing Tate into a short hug.  
"No problem, dude," Tate smiles back, joining the hug.  
Tate looks over at the still shaken Kit, he was still full of rage, a rage that Tate has only seen a few times, and he knows straight away, that Kit isn't a person that should have that type of rage. Tate slowly walks up to him, gripping his rusted and blackened chains.  
"You're going to punch me, aren't you?" Tate jokes, laughing at Kit's unimpressed face.  
"Maybe."  
"She's safe, I promise," Tate says, snapping the chains and freeing the last of March's captives.

Before Kit can say anything, the group is startled by the sound of gasping and struggling; noises coming from March. Tate's attention finds its way back to his nemesis, the one man that knows how to really get into his head and crawl under his skin. Tate is ready to do worse than impale him, he's ready to show March how weak he really is, and how much he thinks he's the top of the food-chain.  
"I- I've gotta' say, Tate. I- I'm impressed," March gasps, moving around the cold floor and gripping the spear-like piece of wood in his chest.  
The group watches as March tears the piece of wood from his chest, blood spitting upwards in the same motion. March screams at the excruciating pain in the chest, but Tate just smiles, knowing that he's caused the monster a great deal. March holds the wood like a weapon as he slowly finds his way to his feet, grunting in the process.  
"Surprised?" Tate asks sarcastically, watching every move of March.  
"Very. I could kill all of your friends," March replies.  
"Then why haven't you?!" Kyle growls, stepping towards March.  
"Now doesn't seem like the best time, anyway," March pauses, winking at the group. "You have a reunion to attend."  
March disappears, showing the group that he's not in the mood for killing, not yet anyway. But his disappearance only sparks questions, questions that are going to have to be ignored, now, it's time to save Jimmy.

It's time to save Jimmy, Kit knows that, so he's willing to let his anger go for the time being. He's still angry at Tate for what he did, but if he's telling the truth, and Grace is still alive, he's willing to forgive him for what he did. It was wrong what he did, he gambled, gambled with Grace's life, and Kit doesn't know what Tate did to save her. Kit watches Tate as he struggles to walk, cracking his back and neck every five seconds, which only forms more and more questions, but they don't have time for answers. The separated group was now entering the west wing, so it wasn't long until they found hall five, hopefully anyway. They past more and more dead guards, guards that had suffered the worst of the worst when it came to death, clearly by the hands of March.  
"Jesus Christ," Lana says in disgust, covering her mouth as she tries not to through up. "March did this?"  
"Yeah. It's kinda' his hobby," Tate explains.  
Kyle leans down and picks up a guard's pistol, tearing the clip from the flourished and beaten Colt 1911.  
"How many bullets?" Kit asks, staring at Kyle as he catches up with the group.  
"Enough; a full clip on this one. Lucky, I doubt I could say the same about the rifles," Kyle replies, placing the clip back into the gun. "Kit, do you want it? I won't need it, If I find an axe or something, I'll use that. Tate and I, we're a lot stronger than regular humans."  
"Yeah? No shit," Kit jokes.

The turnoff to hall five. The sight excites the entire group, especially Kit, who basically runs around the corner like a child, moving too far in front of everyone else. Kit stops in his tracks, seeing her, seeing his Grace waiting innocently at the large metal door in front of her. March wasn't joking when he said it was a big ass door, it was three times the size of one of the elite guards, and it made Grace look tiny, like a child compared to a giant. Kit doesn't say her name, he's physically unable, he's just ridiculed by her presence, the fact that she's still alive. He can feel the presence of the others catch up to him, and he wanted a single moment of privacy with her, so it was now or never.

"Grace," Kit faintly says, loud enough for her to hear and turn around, their eyes meeting once again.  
"Kit?" Grace faintly says back, running over to him and leaping into his arms.  
"I'm so glad you're alive!" Kit yells, his lips passionately tasting hers once again, his hands caressing her strawberry blonde hair.  
The rest of the group enter the hall, seeing the couple together again, a moment that makes Tate both happy and upset. The sight reminds him of what he and Violet used to be, the love they had before he did what he did, the reminder kills him inside.  
"Tate saved my life, used himself to shield me from the fall, besides a grazed knee, I'm fine. Tate, on the other hand, almost broke his spine on the way down."  
Kit turns to face her saviour, his eyes telling him that he's completely forgotten about why Grace got in that position in the first place. "Tate, is that true?"  
"I did tell you that she's safe, now you've seen that first hand," Tate smiles. "Besides, it was fun."  
"Ha, a ghost and a saviour," Kyle jokes, his thumb wiping dust from his eye scar. "I've seen some bullshit, but never anything like that."

Kit places Grace back on the ground and exits the hug, as much as he didn't want to, he knows there's more things to do, especially the most important task; save Jimmy Darling. He faces the large rusted metal door, admiring its size and monstrous look, thinking it'd take more than a hundred bullets to open it.  
"How are we going to do this?" Tate asks, his hands feeling around the rusted parts of the door. "It's thick to a fuck-house."  
"What does that even mean?" Lana growls.  
"Something people of my time say, it's complicated," Tate says.  
"We'll break the little fucker down, Tate. Me and you," Kyle says, breaking a nearby emergency glass and tearing the fire axe from it.  
"We're? Going to tear that fucking thing down?" Tate asks, rolling his eyes sarcastically.  
"Yeah, we're stronger than the others, we can do it, together. We're both technically dead, we both have enhanced strength, let's tear the door down and save Jimmy, we have to. This is why we're here."

Kit agrees with Kyle's plan, even gripping the handle of the axe, encouraging the plan entirely. Kit stares at Lana and Grace, using his eyes to indicate that it's time for them to step back, let Kyle and Tate do what they do best. Tate takes a deep breath in, nodding his head at Kyle reluctantly.  
"Fine, this is about Jimmy, I'm doing this for him," Tate says.  
"Thank you, Tate," Kit utters, catching his attention for a brief second.  
"Don't thank me yet, anyway, Kyle will be doing most of the work."  
"Step back, this is about to become messy," Kyle growls, his eyes dilating in concentration.  
Kit takes the hands of Lana and Grace, taking them a few meters away from the door, close to the wall for some form of safety. This is it, the time to break down the gigantic door and save Jimmy from being experimented on and mutilated by a crazy doctor obsessed with an unnatural source of science. Grace told the group about Dr Arden, how he takes patients somewhere secret, a place they don't return from. That tells everyone that he's bad news, and he does something that either kills or changes the patients he takes, and now, they were all about to find out what is so special about his "secret room", and what the room looks like.  
"Ready to prove who's stronger, tough guy?" Tate growls, psyching Kyle up for the task they're about to commit themselves to.  
"Ready," Kyle laughs, staring the ghost up and down, smiling while doing so. "Three. Two! ONE!"


	9. Breaking The Bones Of Science

Dr Arden takes the third and final blood sample from Jimmy's hand, the syringe slowly exiting the palm, covered in warm crimson blood. Jimmy squirms at the feeling, he's always hated the feeling of needles, worse than stage fright, that what he says anyway. Jimmy can feel the colour draining from his face, but is still unsure about how much blood has actually been taken from him. He stares back at his hands, noticing most of the wires are missing from his hands; only one left in each palm. He wonders if the sedative he was given is going to begin to wear off, whatever it is, he's never felt anything like it.  
"Not long now, Mr Darling. Your purpose has nearly been fulfilled, soon you will be free."  
"Then you'll let me go?" Jimmy gasps.  
"No, in fact, we will do the exact opposite," a voice says from the dark, the accent recognisable to everyone in the room. The silhouette in the dark steps into the light, revealing the still bloodied and beaten March, a hole still filling in his chest.  
"Mr March?" Arden questions, staring at the psychopath in confusion. "I'm guessing you dealt with the problem?"  
"In some shape or form, yes I did. But the result, of that dealing, didn't go quite well."

An extremely loud uproar echoes in the laboratory, coming from the large metal entrance. The racket startles Dr Arden and the still tied Jimmy, causing trouble to flood the room. Dr Arden stares at March, his eyes widening as he discovers what the homicidal maniac was talking about, the utter, terrifying truth. But nothing makes sense to Jimmy, what the hell are they talking about? Who is coming for him? And better yet, why is Arden so worried about the problem?  
"What are you talking about?" Jimmy asks, demanding an answer. "What was that noise?!"  
"SHUT IT!" Arden snarls, staring back at March. "You mean to tell m-"  
"Yes, Doc. I didn't deal with the problem as well as you told me to, but then again, I've been the one to take orders, instead, give them completely," March pauses, walking over to Jimmy and gripping both of the wires connected to his palms. "This is not a democracy, you are the ship and I am the captain, I control you, Arden. YOU ARE THE SHIP! AND I AM CAPTAIN!"

The uproar occurs again as March tears the wires from Jimmy's palms, but this time louder, and the following comes to a large dent in what is supposed to be an indestructible door. Dr Arden begins to shake, his hands unable to hold the chemicals in his hands, causing them to spill onto the floor. Jimmy watches March as he begins to grip the straps on his legs, smiling while he does it.  
"What are you doing, March?" Dr Arden gnarls, his teeth grinding together aggressively.  
"I'm not your plaything, Arden! You think you have control of the situation? You think you have any idea what I am? You know my name, nothing more, I've killed more people than you even know, more people than you've ever interacted with, more people than the amount that has liked you. You're inconsistent, arrogant, and you lack the intelligence it takes to be a real mad scientist. I've broken bones, shattered skulls, torn muscle and spine together to make the perfect experiment, all of that work to create a meat shield, it's quite interesting, but nothing like smashing the back of someone's head, WITH A FUCKING HAMMER!"

The door breaks open in a flash, flying weightlessly across the room and onto the cold floor of the laboratory, and in that split flash, March disappears, taking the straps of Jimmy's legs with him. The door causes chaos across the entire lab, and the group follows the chaos, first Tate and Kyle, then the rest of the group. Dr Arden arms himself with a medical saw, large enough and sharp enough to cut someone's head clean off their shoulders.  
"Jimmy!" Tate yells, catching Jimmy's attention in an instant.  
"Where are you?!" Grace exhales, stepping over the flat-faced metal door.  
"I'm right here!"  
Kyle vaults to the bottom of the lab, landing directly on his feet, impacting the ground with an indescribable force. His head pierces up at Arden, his eye scar beaming at the sociopath of a doctor, with what seems like a monstrous look on his face, a face well equipped for killing. "Get away from him!"  
Dr Arden prepares his saw, ready to swing at the closest target, a target that happens to be Kyle, and unlike Tate and March, if Kyle dies, he's gone for good. The thought of that brings Jimmy into a rage, a rage he's only ever felt once, a rage he let go of when he murdered that officer, slit his throat. Jimmy was about to let that rage control him once again, let it enhance his everything, like a beast that's been prodded too many times, a beast that's about to break from his cage, and break the bones of science.

Jimmy slings himself up the operating table, screaming as he breaks away from the straps, taking the rage with him every step of the way. He's never felt anger like this before, never like this, not even murdering that cop caused anger like this. He feels like a demon, a hell-hound, capable of being able to break away from anything, destroy anyone. He breaks away from the table like someone breaking newly sewed stitches from their ribs; painfully and crazily. Dr Arden attempts to swing the saw at Jimmy while he's still strapped to the table, but Jimmy's rage is too much, allowing him to tear the straps away quick enough to pull the saw away from Arden's hands, then, place his claws onto his neck, tightly and firmly.  
"The tide has turned now, HASN'T IT!" Jimmy roars, his grip causing Arden's breathing to become wheezy and uncontrolled.  
Kyle places his hand on Jimmy's claw, trying to attempt to calm him down. "Jimmy, let him go."  
"He- H- He was going to kill me!" Jimmy screams.  
"You're not a killer, man. You're not, you're one of the good ones, remember?" Tate adds, catching Jimmy's slow attention. "You're not like me, you're not like this piece of filth or March. You're one of the better ones."

Jimmy stops doing anything, breathing and moving, but his grip is still on the mad doc's throat. Kyle removes his hand from Jimmy's, stepping back, and taking Tate with him for safekeeping, giving Jimmy a lot of needed space. Jimmy watches the face of Arden slowly become purple, the veins on his neck and forehead peaking out of the paleness of his skin.  
"C'mon, Jimmy," Lana says, his hands tightly clenched together. "You can do it, you can let him go."  
"Please, Jimmy," Kit adds.  
Jimmy clenches his teeth together, groaning at the feeling in his head, the hunger to kill Arden, the urge, the animal instincts that kick in, and how badly he wants to fight it. Jimmy hates Arden, the last thing he wants to see is the scientist continuing to breathe, Jimmy wants to stop him, destroy him, tear him apart, more than anything else he's ever wanted in his life, even more than how much he's wanted, Maggie. Jimmy screams in the face of Arden like a god damn madman, scaring even himself, making Arden shake like a vibrating phone. That's when he finally decides to let him go, his screaming stopping, but his mind still bubbling in anger.

Jimmy's breathing comes back, causing him to gasp terribly like it's his first breath in hours. Dr Arden drops like a rock, his hand caressing his throat, breathing normally once again. Jimmy's decision causes everyone to gasp in relief, although knowing Jimmy isn't completely calm. That's when Arden begins to open his trout again.  
"Doesn't matter what you do, I will f-"  
"Shut up," Jimmy snarls, gripping Arden's arm, twisting and snapping it in a blink of an eye, screams following the break.  
Dr Arden grabs his arm, groaning and squealing at his now mangled arm, not even Jimmy knew he was that strong.  
"You broke my god damn arm!" Dr Arden squeals, tears flowing down his pale cheeks.  
"He could have done a lot worse, dickhead!" Tate snarls, spitting on Arden's coat. "C'mon, Jimbo, let's go."  
Jimmy heads over to the door, staring at his bloody and bruised wrists, not turning back. Grace walks over and kisses him on the cheek, telling him that she's proud of him for not killing Arden. Kit places his hand on his shoulder, commemorating his victory, their victory, he is finally and indefinitely safe, and that's what the entire group wanted, that was their mission.  
"What now?" Lana asks, staring at the now whole group. "What do we do now?"  
"I have an idea," Kyle smirks happily, staring over at Kit, their, somewhat, leader. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"  
"What are you fuckers planning now?" Tate jokes, chuckling to himself.  
"What is it?" Grace asks.  
"Let's get the fuck outta' here!" Kit yells.  
Operation "get the fuck out" is a go.


	10. A Bloody Kidnapping

Dr Arden leans against the wall of his laboratory, staring at the bloody bone sticking from his arm, as well as the puddle that blood has caused. He tries to stand up, but his body is in far too much trauma to do so, not even science could do anything to help him. He's used to enjoying the silence, but not in this moment, not in times of such pain and worry. He's failed his experiments, his chance of redeeming the human race, his chance to help them survive the worst of chaos, he's failed what he considers his purpose. He's lost a lot of blood, more blood than he can guess; less than death, more than a healthy measure, he needs a powerful nourishment of warm fresh blood.  
"It seems you've, gotten yourself into a struggle, Dr Arden," a female voices remarks at the door, catching the doctor's attention.  
"Who's there?" Dr Arden sighs, his eyes blinking in confusion.

The silhouette of the woman pears from the dark and into the light, revealing a black and white veil in the pale artificial light, a veil easily recognised; Sister Mary Eunice. The pale young woman holds strong in her stance, even with the blood that's covered her veil, face, and golden-locked hair. Dr Arden has always fancied her, everything about her to be exact; her youth, hair, skin, face, eyes, everything. She knows how to look weak, but be completely and utterly powerful, and that's what Arden liked about her. There is something devilish about her, something he hasn't noticed until she stepped into that light like it was a type of spotlight to what she really is.  
"It's me, you imbecile. It's the source of your atrocities, your allowance of them, now look at you; weak and broken," Mary Eunice pauses, staring at the bone that's broken from his arm. "We made it abundantly clear that we would be sticking to the plans, and then, you decided it would be fine to break away from that idea and try to, experiment on a freak."  
"I thought you were dead? Where is Sister Jude?"  
"Dead? You foolish old man, I can't die, not anymore, not by a ghost's hands. I've changed completely, and not even your precious science could have foretold it. Sister Jude is somewhere, not sure where, but she's alive, she must've run away from the chaos."  
"You should be leaving this place, should be gone from this godforsaken place, Sister Mary. Why are you still here?" Dr Arden questions, slowly finding his way to his feet at last.  
"I couldn't leave without doing this."

Mary Sister Eunice somehow picks Arden up in a telekinetic grip, making him float in the air with both of his arms stretched out, including the broken one. During his levitation, his bleeding somehow stops, the bone clinging away from the arm. Mary Eunice's eyes turn a glowing orange colour, a satanic colour, a colour only describable in a nightmare.  
"What- are you- doing?"  
"Ending your reign of evil once and for all."  
The hands of the demonic nun separate, causing the bones of the legs of Arden to break completely, causing him to scream like a mad man. After the legs, the whole arms go with them, causing more and more screaming. Blood curdles from the fresh wounds, dripping onto the frosty tiles of the cold laboratory. Arden feels like his chest is about to explode, suddenly feeling warm liquid tear from it, knowing it is blood. Arden hastily stares down at the Sister, seeing a shadow emerge from behind her, the shadow of the infamous psychopath March. He attempts vigorously to warn her, but she stops him from speaking, branding his lips together, then, she finishes him off, tearing his heart from hischest and into her hand, killing him indefinitely.

She lets go of her telekinetic grip on his body, watching it as it drops on the ground like a heavy boulder, the sound of the falling corpse satisfying her blood-lust. Her eyes change back to her normal state, the blue opal eyes peering through the light and dark of the room, but not in the right places. The silence swallows the room once again, but this time, not in the best way, Sister Mary Eunice hates silence, unlike Arden, she'd prefer if it was always loud. She hears a disturbance from behind her and turns quickly, facing the new threat in the room.  
"Well, hello, little one."  
March swings the large surgical saw at her throat with extreme force, slicing at it, and cutting her head clean off her shoulders. Her head rolls onto the ground like a soccer ball, her blonde hair becoming loose and bearing on the ground. The blood from the slice sprays everywhere; the walls, ground, March's whole body, nowhere is safe from that amount of blood. March howls at what he just did, commemorating himself with a chuckle and a tricky smile, enjoying the lack of presence in what used to be a full room.  
"Another demon bites the dust, so much for not being able to die by a ghost's hands." March grins, wiping the blood from his face. "Now, where did that other nun go?"

The group wanders amongst the halls, hearing the screams of the patients down in the cell blocks, which causes a shiver down most of their group members' spines. Kit holds his gun close to his side, while his other hand is comforting the wildly stressed Grace. Kyle playfully swings his axe across his side, ready to use its blade if he has to while waiting to cross any other sign of a weapon the others can use.  
"Shouldn't we tell someone about the remaining patients, the police or something?" Lana pleads. "One day, I'm going to write about every single one of those patients, and what these animals did to us."  
"And what about what the animals did to them? March?" Kyle asks, his voice snappy and aggressive.  
"Nobody will believe us, Kyle," Kit adds. "They'll think that we did this, so we can't say anything unless we have any real evidence-"  
"I'll find some, one day I will, I swear," Lana adds. "Everyone will know what happened here, they will know everything."  
"When the police realise three teams, let me repeat that three teams of S.W.A.T. haven't checked in, it won't be long until they act upon it. And it's clear that it can only end in two ways; their deaths, or our deaths, there's no in-between," Jimmy explains.  
"So much death, we're surrounded by it all. Why are we surrounded by it all?!" Grace cries, instantly feeling the warm comfort of Kit.  
"We won't be here for much longer," Tate adds. "We're finding our way out, tonight."

They enter the middle wing, close to the entrance of the Asylum, but everyone knows the doors are locked, they're always locked down, especially in the times like this. Tate stops the group from walking any further, even placing his hand on Kyle's chest, and softly pinning him against the wall, making sure it's silent. His warning is so sudden, so unexpected, and quickly makes every single member of the group worry.  
"What is it?" Kyle asks, throwing his hand away from his chest.  
"I just heard the door open."  
"I didn't hear anything, how are you sure?" Jimmy snarls, questioning Tate's logic.  
"I'm a fucking ghost for fuck sake, I hear everything I want to," Tate snarls.  
"Yeah, okay, teen wolf," Kit jokes, trying hard to suck in his laugh, knowing it's not the best time. Kyle, Jimmy and the girls, on the other hand, struggle to keep their laughter in. Even through the shitty times, Kit can manage to make anyone smile.  
"I said ghost, not werewolf, smart-ass!" Tate growls.

Tate carefully peeks his head around the corner they stand near, finding his eyes to the innocent door that stares back, but he sees nothing that explains the sound of the door opening. Tate stares around, trying hard to at least get a clue about who or what found themselves inside the Asylum on what seems like the worst fucking time in the history of choosing times. Tate's senses are unnatural, able to see, hear and smell anything and everything he wants to, so it's a mystery as to why Tate can't do any of those things right now, he hates it.  
"What do you see?" Lana asks. "Anything at all."  
"I don't see any-"  
"Lana?" a voice interrupts, startling Tate, making him appear behind the person the voice came from, putting them in a headlock that could kill.  
Kyle prepares the axe, stopping when he has full sight of the man in the suit; Dr Oliver Thredson.  
"Hey hey! Relax!" Thredson screams at the top of his lungs, catching Lana's attention, and empathy.  
"Guys, no!" Lana screams. "He's friendly."

Lana steps in, gripping the handle of Kyle's axe, not like it would do any good, not against Kyle anyway. But Kyle does stop, looking the man in the glasses and a suit up and down in confusion. Why Dr Thredson? And why now out of all times? It doesn't seem right, but everyone in the group looks past it as it's lost in the mist of stress that's consumed the room. Tate drops Thredson from his grip, causing the doc to fall to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. Tate just snarls like a grey wolf as he stutters back to the pack, his eyes not leaving the man unknown to him.  
"Talk about a grip," Thredson coughs. "I could diagnose him with hysterical strength. What- the fuck is going on here, Lana?"  
"Oh you know, the usual bullshit," Kit gnarls. "Bullshit you've let happen here. You didn't even try to help us, you prick."  
"Hey, I didn't have the auth-"  
"Authority my ass!" Grace growls.  
"ENOUGH!" Jimmy squawks. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"  
Tate laughs at the carnage occurring in the room like they're standing in a fun-house rather than an asylum, he's seen worse, a lot worse.  
"I'm getting outta' here, with or without whoever this guy is," Kyle explains, kicking open a door to another hallway. "Let's go already."

Nightfall is hours away, and the group is still trying to find the entrance to the tunnels, but they're stuck in the illusion of the never-ending madness that lurks in the halls and floors of the Asylum. Everything is completely and utterly silent, the patients in the cell blocks were probably fatigued, probably screamed themselves to sleep, a chilling thought to Lana and Grace who were worried sick about them. Everyone except Tate was getting exhausted, especially the regular humans, Kyle doesn't get fatigued as quickly as the others, even Dr Thredson was becoming tired from all of the scurryings and wandering.  
"We should have found it by now," Grace sighs, flipping her hair from the front of her face. "We've done this before, Kit and I, we should know how to do this again."  
"We're not thinking straight, we're tired and we're fucked at this point," Kit says.  
"We'll find it," Tate comments. "If it comes to it, you guys can rest and I'll keep looking, I'm a ghost, I don't need sleep. Not unless I 'die' again."  
"You're a ghost?" Thredson snarks, clearly not believing what he had just said. "Scary."  
"The only monsters here are the humans that serve in these walls, and after what Kit and Lana have told me, that's you Thredson," Jimmy snarls, picking up two broken pipes and a rifle, checking the magazine and cocking the weapon before shoving the two pipes in his pockets.

Tate and Kyle stop, hearing the sound of a pistol being quietly cocked, knowing that the noise can't mean anything good. A blast rages and a bullet pierces straight through Tate's throat, making him hit the floor to a temporary death. Jimmy begins to turn back is knocked completely unconscious by a thrown brick, and like that, Lana is grabbed. Kyle turns to face the threat, and to no surprise to his, it's the unknown, it's Thredson. Thredson holds a handgun to Lana's head, but something is different, he wears a mask; a bloody, disgusting looking mask, with human teeth and hair stitched onto it. Kyle's temper is being tested once again, his friend is in danger, and nobody can do anything about it, not even Kit and Grace, who stand a metre away. Kyle kneels down to Tate, checking his pulse, nothing.

"You son of a bitch," Kit snarls, staring at the murderous looking Thredson, aiming his handgun at him.  
"Oh c'mon, your not completely surprised, are you Kit? I mean, you didn't think I was going to help you get out, did you? I was going to keep you here, so the truth couldn't come out, the truth of who bloody face really is. I killed your precious, negro Alma, I killed Lana's precious Wendy, I've murdered so many girls, and I let you take the blame. And now, you're going to watch as I drag this little one away, take her away from this, and she'll be gone, forever."  
"If you fucking hurt her!" Kit yells.  
"Shut it!" Thredson growls. "Or I'll shoot your new precious Grace."  
Thredson begins to slowly and carefully take steps back, away from the rest of the group, and eventually around the corner, out of sight. Lana's gone, Thredson has taken her away, and the group couldn't do anything about it. Now they have to wait; wait for Tate to heal and wake up from his re-death, and Jimmy to eventually wake up from his sudden nap. Then, it's personal, Tate will do a lot more than put a simple bullet in Thredson's skull, and Kit has tight and personal business with the man he then describes as a "malicious cunt."  
"It's time to kill that son of a bitch," Kyle states.  
"Amen, to that," Kit agrees, cocking his now completely ready to kill handgun.


	11. A Time To Bring Pain

The silence is consuming, even for a person like March. He wanders the halls for his prey, his next victim, one willing to fight back; his favourite type of victim. Even with everything March would do without thinking, he's not willing to kill the patients in the Asylum, he'd say it's a waste of his time, but in all honesty, he's not freely willing to take their lives. But now, he was out of people to kill, quickly becoming lost in a thick fog of boredom. He is struggling to find something to do, better yet, someone to kill as he wanders the edge of the Asylum, looking out for the group of Co-Existents he's seemingly grown fond of.

"Tate Langdon. Where did you and your little friends find yourselves?" March says to himself, curling his thin moustache in wonder. "We still have a great depression of business to see ourselves too."  
He stares at the suitcase he grasps in his hands, smiling at the item peering through the gaps of the broken clips. Although March enjoys the presence of his new fond self-given gift, he has no idea what to do with it; kill someone with it, or do something much more, productive.

The sound of a gunshot ranges through the Asylum, giving March the knowledge of the exact place of where it came from, which delights him with no pause.  
"Ah, this afternoon has just gotten, fascinating," March smiles, preparing his body for the sudden use of his ghostly ability.  
He appears at the site the gunshot came from, making himself disappear out of sight from anyone around that area, making him feel a lot stealthier for once. He leans down, opening his suitcase, revealing the item he knows could be made of use, but then his attention is taking elsewhere, around the corner of where he stands.  
"You son of a bitch," Kit snarls.  
March smiles at the sight; Tate laying on the ground with a bullet wound on his throat, Jimmy knocked unconscious, and Kit protecting Grace while holding a handgun at a man wearing what looks like a human leather mask, and, the man appears to have Lana as his hostage. He presses the button on this item. Kyle remains leaning down, his fingers on Tate's pulse, a rifle laying beside him and broken pipes in his pants.  
"Oh c'mon, your not completely surprised, are you Kit? I mean, you didn't think I was going to help you get out, did you? I was going to keep you here, so the truth couldn't come out, the truth of who bloody face really is. I killed your precious, negro Alma, I killed Lana's precious Wendy, I've murdered so many girls, and I let you take the blame. And now, you're going to watch as I drag this little one away, take her away from this, and she'll be gone, forever."  
"If you fucking hurt her!" Kit yells.  
"Shut it!" Thredson growls. "Or I'll shoot your new precious Grace."

March watches the man as he slowly backs away from the remaining members of the group, unintentionally and unknowingly towards him. But March doesn't commit any action, he just watches the terrified Lana walk away with the man with the mask and the gun, chuckling to himself for an unknown reason.  
"That malicious cunt!" Kit screams, catching March's attention again.  
"What are we going to do, Kit?" Grace cries, a tear rolling down her face.  
"We're going to find and rescue her, we're not leaving without her, I promise," Kit says. "We're going to wait for Tate and Jimmy to wake up, and then-"  
"We're going to kill the motherfucker!" Kyle finishes, cocking his rifle in an anger only March and Tate could understand.  
The serial killer watches them as they seemingly prepare for the worst of the worst, something they could've done in the beginning. Everyone is being tested, and March can see that clearer than spring water, he can taste the chaos in his mouth.  
"Interesting," March smirks vigorously, staring down at the tape-recorder that had recorded everything in the situation. "Superbly interesting."

Jimmy woke up after an hour of being unconscious, now the group is waiting for the ghost to wake up from his slumber. Kyle is becoming vexed and impatient, he wants to rush and save Lana, then, he wants to butcher Thredson, just like what he planned in the first place. Kyle isn't a murderer, but he is a protector, he's spent every moment loving and protecting his Zoe since he met her, it's the only thing that keeps him sane, keeps him from losing his mind and going on a murder spree similar to Tate's. Jimmy was being patient, and so was Kit and Grace, to their surprise, stress is the only thing that could make their situation worse.  
"How long do you think it'll be before he wakes up?" Jimmy questions.  
"I don't know," Kit replies, his hair muffled up in stress. "But I hope it's soon."  
"He better hurry the fuck up," Kyle growls, sliding his fingers along the edge of the axe's blade. "This is an Asylum, not a daycare for fucktards."  
"Kyle calm d-"

Tate violently gasps for air, interrupting Grace's speaking. Tate's eye wobble, struggling to stay open, but his teeth grind together like a rabid wolf. He uses his arms to pull himself up off the ground, spitting the dust and dirt off the edge of his mouth, then, he flails his head in the air and back to the ground, slamming and cracking the ground in a blind rage. Jimmy begins to walk towards Tate, but Kyle shrieks, stopping him from doing so, for the sake of his safety. He then pulls his hand up, clenching his fist then crunching it into the ground, causing an even bigger dent in the tiled floor. Tate lets out a scream indescribable to most people, a scream you'd hear only in a horror movie, a scream only the wildest of beasts can commit, a scream of the worst of anger.

"I'm going to TEAR HIM APART!" Tate roars, lifting himself up and pushing a part of the balcony off, showing off the strength he wields in his sheer rage.  
"Tate?" Kyle sighs, breathing slowly. "He's taken, Lana."  
"WHERE IS HE?!" Tate snarls, dark tattoo-like marks fading on and off his skin, catching the attention of Kit.  
"Tate? What's happening to you?" Kit questions, staring at the tattoos constricting Tate like a python.  
Tate's face goes grey, he knows exactly what they're talking about, it's happened before, and it's happening again. Tate feels it grasp his mind, caressing it with evil thoughts and a lust for murder, he hates it. His eyes begin to become drawn to his allies, but this time, with evil thoughts and rage, a need to kill. His body shakes as he begins to lose control, and he scares him, let alone the rest of the group. That's when his own reflection catches his attention.

Suddenly, Tate is in his own world; he's alone, and it's quiet. He walks towards the reflection peering from the mirror, staring at the sight of himself, not knowing the rest of group stare at him like he's crazy. He's letting the tattoos take him over, as well as the madness that comes with it. He tries to think of anything else, even Violet, but nothing seems to save him from the mesmerising face that stares at him through the mirror. It stares back at Tate, tattoos covered its face and smile.  
"That's right, you're just like me," it says, smiling at him.  
"I'm nothing like you," Tate snarls.  
"Sure you are. You're violent, disgusting, and you try to be a hero, but you fail at it. Every time, you just fail, you failed Violet, and you failed Nora."  
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Tate gasps, gripping his temple in pain.  
The reflection just laughs at him, hysterically and crazily, loving the pain its evil influence is causing on Tate's, but Tate is ready to react.

"Is he okay?" Jimmy asks the group, his rifle ready to open fire if necessary.  
"I don't know, I've reacted in rage, but not like that," Kyle states, staring at the tattoo on his ankle. "But nobody goes near him, just in case."  
"We should be able to trust him," Kit stops, staring at the now mesmerised Tate. "He's protected us through this entire ordeal, he's still Tate."  
"We need to get Lana," Grace steps in, her voice in an ordering tone. "With or without him."  
"We need him, Grace," Kyle snarls, placing his axe on the ground.  
Tate lets out another scream, breaking the mirror into a thousand pieces with his bare fist, causing blood to drip from the newly formed cut. The tattoos begin to die down once again, revealing his perfect pale skin to the world once and for all.  
"Last time I let that control me, now, I'm in control," Tate scoffs, staring at the group with a firm look. "Sorry about that, we can go now."  
"Let's go then," Jimmy agrees, cocking his rifle and taking point, beginning their journey to Lana's rescue, and Tate's hopes is Thredson's end.

The group isn't fucking around, not anymore, they've been through too much, been fucked around too much, even Kit has had enough of the bullshit. Kit and Grace are taking point, looking around for the signs of the basement that leads to the tunnels, and finally, with luck. Tate had gone missing while the rest of the group looked for the entrance to the tunnels, the entrance to freedom, and revenge. Night has finally swallowed the Asylum, and this could only mean one thing; more danger, more trouble, more death.  
"Found it!" Grace squeals, calling the group over to the staircase.  
"The tunnels?!" Jimmy questions with excitement, getting up off the floor, using his gun to lift himself up.  
"Yeah, finally found them," Kit answers, kicking open the door to the surprisingly already open door. "And this door is already open."  
"Fucken' hell," Kyle laughs, rolling his eyes. "TATE! HURRY UP!"

Tate appears in the room in a blink of an eye, his blue jump-suit torn, his right hand holding a cleaver.  
"Where did you find that?" Kit asks, staring at the weapon he's never seen in the Asylum before.  
"The kitchen safe, never torn the door from the hinges?" Tate jokes, pointing out the obvious to Kit and the rest of the group.  
"Funny," Kit replies, dark-eyeing him while he cocks his handgun and walks into the dark basement. "Scared of the dark, Langdon?"  
Tate scoffs at Kit's words, remembering how dark Murder House used to be, especially alone, hidden away from the rest of anyone else's eyes. Grace is the second person to enter the dark, Kyle following her, then Jimmy following him. Kyle is already seen as the fearless one in the group, always taking charge when needed, always making sure the group is safe. Tate wishes he could be like Kyle, but then again, Kyle wasn't always the way he was, his story; is ragged and stitched together.

Tate takes his first step into the dark, reliving the nightmare he used to live in during his time in the depths of Murder House. He's hated the dark ever since, but he manages to hold himself together for the sake of the group. Kyle's eyes adapt to the dark in an instant, and for an unknown reason. Kyle manages to see through the darkness, using the moment to successfully guide the group through it, contemplating whether or not the enhanced sight is a side effect of the magic Zoe used on him. Kit and Grace stay close together, holding hands as they trotted through the thick blanket of darkness, not their most romantic moment, but certainly their safest. Jimmy remains quiet, too quiet, if it wasn't for Kyle's sudden ability to see in the dark, the group wouldn't even know if he was still there.  
"How far is it? I can't see shit," Jimmy states, his weapon accidentally knocking over an old beaker.  
"It's right here," Grace says, slowly opening a door, revealing a more lighted area of the Asylum, an area lighted by the moonlight; the tunnels.

The tunnels are quiet, and not as long as Kit and Grace remember, but they have to let that noticeable factor, this is about saving Lana's safe. Kyle and Tate rush in front, something that Kit knows isn't the safest thing to do.  
"Kyle. Tate. Stop," Kit begs, taking a step forward, tripping over one of the stones in the tunnels, and firing his gun accidentally.  
The sudden sound of the gunshot frightens everyone, even making Kyle and Tate jump at the sound. The gunshot echoes through the entire tunnel, and towards the woods, the one place outside of the Asylum, where nobody wants to be.  
"What the fuck, Kit?!" Tate screams, dropping his cleaver in a nearby mine-cart.  
"I'm sorry guys, I'm so-"  
Sudden squealing growls can be heard from the woods like something is coming towards them. Kit looks at Grace, suddenly remembering, something chased them back to the Asylum, something that seemed to have wanted to eat them. Kit rushes out of the tunnel, holding his handgun out in one hand and Grace's hand in another, suddenly ready to kill, which catches the attention of the rest of the group. Tate grabs his cleaver, staring at Jimmy as he cocks his rifle the last time, and Kyle as he quickly slides the blade of the axe against the cart to sharpen it.

The three Co-Existents rush out of the tunnel to join the group, ready for the battle that seems to be about to occur.  
"What's going on? What's out there?" Kyle asks, demanding an answer.  
"Dr Arden, he has these, pets. We've never seen them, but we have heard them, and seen what's left of their food; humans. What I know, is they're not human, not anymore," Kit explains. "And that gunshot just gave away our position."  
"Prepare to fight for your fucking life," Grace sighs, pulling a hatchet from a nearby bush.  
"Where did you get that?" Jimmy asks, his rifle pointing towards the woods as the sound of scurrying becomes clearer and louder.  
"You have your skills, I have mine."  
"So, we're going to have to kill these things? How many are there?" Kyle interrogates, rubbing his finger against his axe. "Actually, don't tell me, I like surprises.  
"Let's do this, C'mon!" Tate yells, seeing the shadowy figures form in his sight. "C'MON!"  
None of the group knew it from the start, but saving Lana's life, was about to become a lot more, threatening.


	12. Parting Ways

March is long past the normal level of bored. He's used to being up to the worst of the worst at the Hotel Cortez, but in the Asylum, there seems to be nothing to do but wander around looking for another person to kill. But then again, murder is the last thing on his mind right now, the first thing is getting out of the Asylum, once and for all. But after seeing what the group is dealing with right now, the man with the Bloody Face, it makes March wonder how it's going to end. A ghost, a human, a monster and a freak, the four ways March describes his Co-Existents, and unknowingly, to the others, he's known as the psychopath; the murderer, the merciless, the killer. Worse and more ferocious than Tate and Kyle put together.

March walks into the kitchen, seeing the damage that's recently occurred; a scavenge like swipe of the entire room.  
"Hmm, Tate I presume?" March says to himself, spotting the broken kitchen safe and the remaining blades left in it. "Yes, most definitely Tate."  
March walks to the safe, tearing two large knives from it, before sliding them into the pockets of his torn strait-jacket. March's ears are shocked by another sound of a gunshot, but this time, not of the revolver he had heard before, this time his favourite handgun; 1911 Colt. March smiles at the sound of the barrel clocking back, his ghostly senses allow him to hear it, hear anything, comes in handy for a serial killer.  
"I wonder where that came from?" March smirks, preparing himself for a ghostly teleport once again.

March suddenly appears to where he wants to be; the tunnels, the way to freedom, the way back to his kingdom. March's eyes feel different like his energy has been drained by everything in the surrounding environment. March's knees hit the floor in agony, he feels his nose begins to bleed suddenly, this doesn't seem right to him.  
"What blasphemy- is this?" March weeps, feeling blood tear from his ears and eyes. "What is happening to me?"  
March stares over to the end of the tunnel, seeing them; seeing the remainder of the group, the Co-Existents, Grace, all of them. They look prepared, prepared for something crazy, something dangerous, that's when March spots the silhouettes of weirdly shaped humans, scurrying towards them. Every member is armed, every member is ready. March manages to find himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his wounds, then smiles as he pulls the blades from his pockets.  
"Finally."

The woods have become silent, too silent for comfort. The sounds of scurrying and crawling had suddenly stopped, which could only mean one uncomfortable thing; shit was about to become violent, and lives were about to be lost. Even Tate was having a hard time hearing anything, and he's a ghost, he hears whatever he wants to. The group was prepared for everything but the silence, the fear that came with it, and the irritation. But the group was staying in formation, in their own little wall, a wall nothing could conquer, as long as they worked together.  
"Tate? Are you okay?" Kit asks, frost foaming away with his hot breath. "Your nose."  
Tate caresses the edge of his nose, feeling the warmness of blood, then the confusion that follows it. That's when he begins to feel the sudden pain in his head like a gun just went off and the bullet bounced around violently.  
"Dude, Tate. Are you oka-"

One of the former silhouettes lunges from a scrub, revealing its mutated and ghoulish state. Its claws scrummage through the dirt as it lays on all fours, ragged teeth snarling at its nearest victim; Kyle. The creature launches itself at Kyle, ready to tear out his throat, but not ready for the next trick Kyle has up his sudden sleeve.  
"NO!" Kyle screams like he used to when he was in his Frankenstein form, like he did when Madison attacked his Zoe.  
Kyle swings his weapon with a monstrous force, tearing at the creature's neck so hard, its head falls straight on its shoulders. The head drops like a rock, creating a satisfying noise to Kyle's murder-cravings, making him unwillingly smile at both the sight and the sound. Blood curdles away from the severed head, creating a puddle, a puddle easily smelt but whatever else is lying in the woods. After the first kill, it wouldn't be long until more Raspers began scurrying out for a fight, and that's exactly what they did. One by one, two by two, three by three, they all begin to rush out of the woods, beginning their cannibalistic attack, even ramming each other out of the way to get to the group. Their numbers are both surprising and terrifying, Kit and Grace didn't expect a number this massive, but then again, nobody did.  
"You ready?!" Grace screams, hatchet at the ready.  
"As always," Tate smiles.

The group departs into a bloody brawl, surprised by the sheer amount of Raspers that lurk in the deep darkness of the woods. Tate makes himself appear amongst the lines of freaks, allowing his cleaver to do the dirty work, creating a bloody mess as he slices through them with ease. Jimmy uses his rifle, surprising himself with his accuracy as he pops through Raspers with one hand, using his rusted pipe as a melee weapon with the other. Grace stands beside Kit as they slowly move forward together, taken out any freak that gets close to him as uses his handgun to deal some serious damage. The numbers don't seem to be depleting, Kit and Grace didn't expect this many of them, which gave them a deadly disadvantage. Nobody from the group is prepared to be food, so they're going to do the only thing they know; fight for their lives.

Kit reloads his weapon, realising it was his one and only spare round, which makes him begin to panic. He watches Kyle as he forcefully slams his axe down on a Rasper, cutting it vertically in two, revealing his true ferocity. Kit turns to face Jimmy, who appears to be surrounded by the creatures as he fires his last bullet, then using the barrel of the rifle as a spear, sticking one in the eye. Grace slams the blade of the hatchet into the stomach of a freak to defend Kit but gets it stuck as the intestines split out into a mess.  
"Grace!" Kit screams as he watches Grace get dragged to the ground by a couple of the monsters.  
Kit fires his handgun at the Raspers, hearing the weapon cock as the last bullet is fired to save Grace's life, covering her in mass amounts of blood. He turns and is tackled to the ground, clawed in the chest in the process, causing a gush of blood run down his body. The creature tries to tear at Kit's throat but is stopped by Kit's hands gripping its arms.  
"KIT!" Jimmy screams, pulling the pipes from his pockets and bludgeoning the head of one of the creatures in defence, spraying himself with thick black blood.  
Tate throws his cleaver into a Rasper scurrying to Kit's whereabouts, using his bare hands to restrain another two before breaking their necks with ease. Kit struggles to hold the beast up, feeling the energy drain his body, and the creature's teeth come closer and closer.

Two blades pierce the creature's head, its eyes rolling back as its head is suddenly torn from its shoulders and onto the ground. A bloody-faced March shows himself, smiling as he curls his moustache with the tip of the blade.  
"I thought you wanted to kill us?" Kit says, breathing out the panic from his lungs.  
March chuckles and then scoffs. "Not yet, Mr Walker. Not yet."  
March walks over to a nearby Rasper, tearing the cleaver from its head and throwing it towards Kit. "This treasure is yours. ."  
March walks in the middle of the battle, his arms stretched out as his smile catches the attention of the hungry creatures, and that's when he makes his move. March slits the throat of one creature, moving to the next and rapidly cutting into its chest, tearing its bloody lungs from its chest. He throws his blade, hitting one of the creatures, then appearing to it and tearing the blade down to its groan, causing an unsustainable amount of damage.

Tate suffers a bite to the leg, stomping on the head and crushing the skull of the beast inflicting that damage. Tate turns, seeing March enjoying himself as he slays a wild number of the mutated creatures. Tate snarls as he makes himself appear beside his nemesis, surprising March with his sudden presence.  
"Well, Mr Langdon," March scoffs. "I have to say, killing whatever these scoundrels are, is a lot more fun and torturing you."  
"Ha, I'm touched."  
Tate moves March aside, gripping one of the beasts on the head, then gripping its jaw, and tearing it off in a blink of an eye. Kyle appears to be holding his own, moving closer and closer to Jimmy to support him in his struggle to hold his own, using his axe to clobber and take the lives of any creature willing to take on the resurrected-human. Kit uses the cleaver to his advantage, dispatching any of the monsters that get close to Grace's presence. The Raspers don't stop, even with their numbers quickly depleting, they don't stop. March gets sick of using his blades, instead, jamming them into the eyes of one of the Raspers, then charging towards a small group of them with his bare hands as his weapons.

Then, there it is, the final wave of them; the scariest, most ghoulish and fowl looking of the creatures, staring at the exhausted group in the moonlight. The group band back together, even March takes a few steps back, sure, Ghosts can't die, but they can still feel pain if they're torn to shreds. The snarling begins as the rest of the creatures scurry towards the group, claws and ragged teeth ready to inflict damage, and even death.  
"I'm so tired," Kit says, sweat rolling down his face as he leans onto Grace, who is equally as tired.  
"This is it," Jimmy clams his pipes together in rage. "Let's kill the rest of these fuckers."  
"Come on, come on, COME ON!" Tate snarls, cracking his knuckles with bloodthirsty eyes.  
"I'm coming back to you, Zoe," Kyle sighs, driving the blood away from his blade. "I'm coming home."  
March chuckles like a madman at the sight like it's the most childish sight he's ever seen. "This'll be unconvincingly easy."

Tate crawls on the ground, blood covered all over his sweaty and exhausted body. He struggles to keep his eyes open, feeling human weakness for the first time in years. Kyle sticks his axe into the spine of the last Rasper, then collapses to the ground in exhaustion. Jimmy sits leaning against a tree, looking at the claw marks on his arms and hand, gasping at the pain the battle had just insured on his body. The moonlight still pierces in the sky, which indicates that it's nowhere near morning, which makes the group want to sleep more and more. The piles of Rasper corpses make it hard to move around, dozens and dozens lay mutilated in the grass, dirt and bloody puddles. Kit manages to get to his blood covered feet, leaving Grace in her state of fatigue. March remains murderous, but still exhausted, using the rest of his energy to cut a Rasper into smaller pieces with Kit's cleaver.

"He seems like he's having fun," Jimmy puffs, clawing himself to his feet.  
"Jesus. Fucking. Christ," Kit says, his hand in his pocket. "I've still got smokes."  
Kit pulls four cigarettes from his pocket along with a lighter, giving one to Grace straight away and lighting it, then asking who else wants one. Tate appears in front of him, snatching one from his hand, same with the lighter to light it. He lights his cigarette, feeling the smoke gush down his throat as he stares around to see that March has disappeared again.  
"Well, fuck," Tate sighs, throwing the lighter to Kit. "March is gone again."  
"Yeah, what a shame," Grace adds sarcastically, finding herself to her feet finally.  
"We're going to have to go soon, guys," Kyle states. "Lana's waiting for us, if we don't act now, Thredson will take her."  
"You're right," Kit agrees, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. "C'mon guys! Grace. Tate. Jimbo. Let's go!"

The group wanders back into the woods, noticing the silence has taken over once again. After the fight all of them had to take part in, nobody was complaining about the quiet, everyone was far too exhausted and aching to do that anyway. But there were still a lot of questions to be answered. Where's March now? Where's Thredson? And if they fail, where will he take Lana? It's all that's on Kit's mind, he was supposed to protect her, and he failed to do that, he trusted the villain the entire time.  
"We have to hurry," Kit says, beginning to panic as the sweat rolls down his face. "She may already be gone."  
"We're almost there," Tate adds, trying to resolve the panic. "I can smell fuel, not fresh, but I can smell it."  
"Just calm down, Kit," Jimmy sighs, trying to put his shoulder, but is stopped when Kit pulls back.  
"Don't try to fucking sweet talk m-"

A gunshot echoes in the near distance, probably two-hundred metres away, which makes every member of the group stare at one another.  
"Quickly!" Kyle yells, beginning the rush to where the gunshot came from.  
Kyle takes point, and being what he is, a resurrected human, he's only slighter faster than Tate, but a lot faster than the humans of the group. Tate manages to stay behind Kyle, watching the rest of the groups as they begin to disappear.  
"Kyle!" Tate yells, using all of his energy to catch up to his Co-Existent. "We have to wait for the rest of the group!"  
"They will catch up! But we have to hurry and find her, make sure they can't leave!"  
"It's not far, the smell is stronger now!" Tate states, hearing another gunshot close by.  
Kyle and Tate become faster as they become more and more dedicated to finding their friend, save her from becoming another victim to the Bloody Face murderer.

Kyle and Tate enter an open field, seeing a car and Lana looking tightly tied to it, Thredson standing near her, holding a gun. Thredson fires his weapon, hitting a nearby Rasper in the knee and sending the creature to its knee, then firing it the last time, this time, in the creature's head. Tate sneaks behind the last alive Rasper, placing it in a headlock and crushing its neck. Around the area, three of creature's lie dead, with the exception of the one Thredson just gunned down and the one Tate had just broke, that's when Kyle notices that the murderer is reloading his revolver once again.  
"Goddammit! Fucking bullets!" Thredson snarls, looking up and spotting the two similar looking beings. "You? How did you?! There were dozens and dozens of them!"  
"Not anymore," Tate smirks, slowly stepping towards the murderer, only to take a bullet from Thredson's weapon in the chest. "I don't think that's going to work this time!"  
"You're finished, Doc!" Kyle growls, holding his battle-axe firmly in his hands.  
"Guys! Help!" Lana screams in panic.  
"SHUT IT, WHORE!" Thredson growls, hitting Lana on the cheek with his weapon.  
The rest of the group finally catches up, even more, exhausted than before, everyone except Kit, who's eyes focus on the man that killed his wife. Grace takes a step back from Kit, feeling the heat his anger is dragging from his body, knowing that the situation was about to become a lot worse.

"You motherfucker!" Kit roars, dragging himself slowly towards his nemesis, even his line of fire.  
"Not another step!" Thredson commands, pointing the gun at Lana's head. "Or she dies."  
"Don't! Please!' Grace pleads.  
"I won't, as long as your pathetic excuse for a lover doesn't make me," Thredson says to Grace.  
Tate uses his fingernail to slowly drag the bullet from his chest, squealing at the feeling as he continues to move towards Thredson once again.  
"Are you deaf, 'ghost'?" Thredson snarls, the bloody, fleshy mask staring at what seems like the angriest teenager in the world. But Tate doesn't flinch, he's seen worse, a lot worse than a serial killer with a skin fetish. Everyone is at the edge of their seats, especially Kit, who is moments away from taking a bullet, just to be able to place his hands around his neck. Tate's eyes merely mock Thredson's comment in a thick fog of laughter.  
"I must be, and so are you apparently! Because if you think another bullet is going to stop me, you're fucking wrong!" Tate roars.  
Thredson fires his weapon again, hitting Tate in the shoulder. He then places the barrel of the revolver at the tip of Lana's temple, his eyes crazed and serious. "I will kill her, I swear."

In a blink of an eye, Thredson's hand slices off his arm, dropping to the dirty ground of the woods as blood sprays all over Lana's face. Thredson screams at the sudden mutilation of his arm, staring at the fresh bloody wound that seems to have magically appeared. But that's when a figure suddenly appears from behind the infamous Bloody Face, someone worse, someone a lot more frightening than even Bloody Face himself; James Patrick March, holding Kit's cleaver.  
"That was exhilarating!" March screams, watching Thredson as he falls to his knees. "Did you see that?! M-A-G-I-C!"  
Thredson continues to scream at the pain he's feeling, but March covers his mouth, shushing him.  
"Hush, Hush. It's okay, it's okay! I'm sorry! It was in my view, so I had 'clear' it out," March chuckles, lining his cleaver along Thredson's chin, then tearing the mask from his face. "Uh, how disappointing. My wife loves jaw-lines, but yours is quite disappointing."  
"March," Tate says, catching his attention. "What are you doing?!"  
"Having fun!" March replies. "Isn't it obvious!"

March stares at the severed arm, still holding his favourite type of handgun; the Colt Detective Special. He picks up the weapon, staring at the number of bullets left in the locking notch.  
"Two bullets left," March smiles, staring at Kit. "You know, I could kill at least two of you, well, with the pistol anyway. BUT! I'm going to gift one of you the honours of finally ending the life of this disgusting and better yet disappointing excuse of a 'serial killer'. But, first, let me do this."  
"What does that mean?!" Kyle questions, his axe ready to go the defensive or the offensive.  
March places the barrel of the gun in the lobe of Thredson's ear, chuckling as he winks at the serial killer.  
"Don't!" Grace yells, running towards Lana and covering her ears. "Now do it."  
March pulls the trigger, blowing Thredson's whole ear into a thousand pieces, only causing more horrific screaming and inevitable crying.  
"Woah! The anticipation was worth every second. Deaf in the right ear! Well, what's left of it anyway!" March chuckles. "You know, I was going t- Actually, you know what? Fuck it!"  
March stands directly in front of Thredson, staring right through his tearing eyes as he smiles viciously. The group watches helplessly as March tears Thredson's mouth open, slowly placing the barrel of the revolver inside of it, which causes the serial killer to choke on the feeling. Kyle prepares to stop March with his axe but is surprisingly stopped when Tate grips the blade, his hand bleeding at the position his palm lays in as he pleads Kyle to let whatever is about to happen, happen. March then drops the cleaver he used to kill the Raspers onto the dirt like he doesn't need it anymore, like all he needs is the last bullet in the revolver. "Goodbye 'Bloody Face'."  
"March!" Jimmy screams. "Stop!"  
"WAIT!" Kit roars.

March fires the last bullet from the revolver, the roar from it echoing through what seems like could be the entire world. The weapon cocks back in his hand, but March's grip stops the weapon from flailing out of his hand. The bullet slings through the Doctor's head, causing a sudden mess of thick blood and mutilated chunks of bone that squirmed from the fresh bullet hole at the back of the lower skull. Bloody spits everywhere; on the ground, on the trees, all over March, Lana and Grace, but that wasn't the end of the mess March had just made. March drags the barrel from the now dead Thredson's mouth, tearing a few teeth on the way out as he watches blood rapidly flow from his nose.  
"Well then, I guess that escalated. I mean, I was diagnosed with what was known as a, and I do quote, a "lustful nature of bloody murder". Sounds about right," March explains, smiling as he drops Thredson's body onto the dirt.  
"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" Kit snarls, his teeth grinding together in anger.  
"I made sure a pathetic mangy creature has been eliminated, that's what I did," March replies.

"Kit needed him to prove his innocence," Kyle gnarls, tearing his axe away from Tate's hand in anger.  
"Prove that he didn't murder all of those women," Grace adds, shielding Lana from the chaos.  
"And you just killed that evidence!" Jimmy finishes.  
"You should have let me stop him, Tate!" Kyle sighs, sticking his axe into a nearby tree.  
"Yeah, well. You didn't get shot in the neck now did you?!" Tate growls back.  
"Well, that's just an interpretation," March adds, catching everyone's attention.  
"Wait?" Grace asks, attempted to process what the known psychopath had just said.  
"What does that mean, James?" Kit asks, wiping sweat from the gash on his face.  
"Look at the tree behind you."

Most of the group turn to face to a tree, everyone but Kyle and Tate, who observe the killer just to make sure it's not a trick. Kit slowly makes his way behind the tree, and that's when March begins to speak again.  
"At first, I didn't know what it was, or better yet, how to use it. But I found out incredibly and thankfully, quick, and after a few terribly lucky moments I captured a few good shots."  
"What is it?" Jimmy asks. "A camera?"  
"Better, my friend. Extraordinarily better."  
Kit finally finds himself on the other side of the tree, staring at an item familiar to him; a recorder. It looks frail and near broken, but still intact. Kit plays with a few of the buttons, as he can't remember which button is which, he's lost in the moments that happened not that long before. That's when he finds the right button and clicks it to begin a recording.  
You son of a bitch," Kit hears himself say in the recording.  
"What the fuck is this?" Kit asks himself.  
"Oh c'mon, your not completely surprised, are you Kit? I mean, you didn't think I was going to help you get out, did you? I was going to keep you here, so the truth couldn't come out, the truth of who bloody face really is. I killed your precious, negro Alma, I killed Lana's precious Wendy, I've murdered so many girls, and I let you take the blame. And now, you're going to watch as I drag this little one away, take her away from all this, and she'll be gone, forever."  
Kit quickly realised that the voice belonged to Thredson. How could he forget? Even through death, his voice still manages to haunt Kit, but the good thing about his voice is how recognisable it is. Thredson is well known, so the police will realise it's his voice straight away.  
"This is evidence," Kit whispers to himself. "Evidence that I'm innocent."  
"If you fucking hurt her!" He hears his voice again, making himself wonder exactly how much March recorded.  
"Shut it! Or I'll shoot your new precious Grace."

The recording suddenly stops, and now, Kit stands stiff, unsure what to do. The woods have become colder, it's clear from the frost coming from Kit's now extremely hot breath. Kit's breathing becomes quicker and quicker, he's shocked, and he now knows what he has to do.  
"Holy fuck, holy fuck."  
Kit snatches the recorder, quickly moving back to the rest of the group in what he wants to be excitement. Grace sees the look on Kit's face but is confused about why the expression is branded on his face. Kyle keeps his eyes close to March while Tate stares at Kit.  
"What was it?" Tate asks, glaring at March. "Anything tricky?"  
"No, but I have to say this; thank you, James."  
"Thank me?" March asks confusingly. "I don't know what you're talking ab-"  
"You recorded Thredson admitting that he's the bloody face murder. You've brought me the evidence that proves my evidence."  
"It would have taken less effort to just kill most of you, but, I suppose, playing with that pathetic piece of metal was interesting in that boring building," March explains.

Grace manages to get Lana to her feet, and in a sudden rage, Lana kicks Thredson's corpse in the face, then picks up a rock and breaks his car window.  
"Motherfucking son of bitch cunt!" Lana cusses, surprising everything with her now suddenly creative mouth.  
"Shush, it's okay, beautiful. And Kit," Grace says to catch his attention. "Thredson left the keys in the ignition."  
Kit stares at the rest of the Co-Existents, knowing that this may be the time that they all part ways and that it won't be long before more police arrived at the Asylum. Everyone looks exhausted, but not ready to leave each other's presence. It's funny how fond everyone has become to one another in such a short period of time, but they've completed their goal; they managed to fight their way through the hordes of Arden's pets, and they've finally escaped the psychotic form of hell the Asylum is.  
"Guys," Kit sighs. "Police are going to be here soon, and Grace, Lana and I are going to have to be gone long before that."  
"What are you going to do?" Tate asks.

"First of all, I'm going to drop off the evidence to the police, prove my innocence. After that, I'm going to take Lana and Grace to my home, we're going to rest there for a few days, maybe even live together. I'm sure Lana's going to need support before she can get on her feet," Kit explains, staring at the tear-stained face that belongs to Lana. "If she wants to, she can live with me and Grace. Otherwise, there are no real plans, besides, forgetting everyone that happened here."  
"Agreed," Jimmy nods his head.  
"Are you coming with us, Jimmy?" Kit asks the lobster boy. "Florida isn't that far away, you know?"  
"Yeah, I think that's best. I better have a clean slate, I wanna' find my family again, I wanna' change my life, even if that means living the rest of my life in secrecy. Anything to see my Maggie, mother, the twins, and the rest of the family again."  
Tate walks over to Jimmy, bringing him into a deep hug, Kyle does the same with Kit, and then they swap. Grace slowly places Lana into the backseat of the car, closing it but ensuring Lana is comfortable. Grace then walks towards all three boys and brings them all into one big hug.  
"I'm going to miss you guys," Grace states, a tear rolling down her eye as she looks over to March. "Even you, in a weird way."  
March lets out a sadistic smile but begins to pace around the area in boredom.  
"We won't forget you, any of you," Kit smiles. "One day, I'm going to tell my children about you all, if I have any anyway."  
"You will," Grace giggles to Kit for what seems like the first time in months.  
"Stay safe," Kyle says, sucking tears down. "All of you."  
"Definitely brother," Jimmy says, watching Kit as he walks into the car, then doing so himself.

"Goodbye brother," Tate sighs, watching his friends drive away, leaving the sight of the chaos finally.  
The sound of car's engine disappears, and now there's three Co-Existents left; the killer, the ghost, and the resurrected. The silence is consuming, but not a bad way this time. Tate doesn't know what to do anymore, let alone how to get back to his timeline, but for now, he's waiting for Kyle to find his way home.  
"Hey, Kyle. What did you say the title of the tree you were looking for was again?" Tate questions.  
"The 'Coal-Oak Tree'. Why do you ask?" Kyle asks back.  
Tate points over to a certain tree, one they could have easily have missed. The oak of the tree is as dark as night itself, with leaves looking greyer than the coldest of corpses. The tree looks like something from a horror movie, but at the same time, beautiful in its own sick way. Kyle stares at the tree, smirking at it with wide eyes.  
"This is you?" Tate asks. "You're the next one to leave?"  
"Sadly, yeah. Thank you, Tate. Thank you for showing me that there's more than meets the eye in this world, more than just witches and magic, more than everlasting hatred. Thank you for showing me that I can have a strong bond with someone that isn't the love of my life."  
Tate just drags Kyle into a hug, and they last that way for an excellent twenty seconds. Even with their differences, Tate and Kyle managed to prove to each other that they aren't just Co-Existents, but somewhat, brothers.  
"I'll miss you, brother," Tate states.  
"I'll miss you too, Langdon," Kyle smiles, beginning his walk to the tree. "And by the way, good luck with Violet, I know you'll get her back."

Tate watches as Kyle walks closer and closer to the 'Coal-Oak Tree'. As each step drags Kyle closer, you can see that his body is beginning to turn into wood, like he's becoming one with the tree itself. Kyle's skin becomes to become Oakley and patterned, and as his hand finally touches the peak of the tree's wood, he disappears into dust, like he was never there in the first place.  
"Looks like it's just me and you, Tate," March says from behind him.  
Tate turns to see that March stands happily, holding a knife he didn't have before. But for what purpose?  
"What are you doing with that? Where the fuck did you get that?" Tate asks the sadistic killer.  
"This, my friend, is my way out of here! My beacon! My way back to my timeline and into the sadistic little amazing fun playground I call 'the Hotel Cortez'! This knife, believe it or not, took my life. I slit my own throat with this blade, and when I made eye contact with it, I knew that this is the way I get back to my own world."  
"How do you expect to get back with that? You've already made contact with it," Tate states, his dark eyes staring at March in confusion.  
"It's easy," March smiles. "Goodbye Tate."

March suddenly slings the blade across his throat, causing a river of blood to seep from the fresh slice. March begins to choke on his own blood, for the second time of his life. But when March's knees hit the ground of the woods, he disappears completely into a pile of ash. Tate now feels alone, for the first time since he's been at the Asylum.  
"Asshole," Tate snarls to himself, picking up a stone and throwing it into the abyss. "Stupid motherfuck."  
Tate stares at the ground as he kicks the edge of a tree, feeling nothing from what would normally fuck up an alive humans foot. But that's when his eyes meet something, extraordinary. A beautiful flower stares up at Tate's face with innocence; gorgeous little purple and black colour, like it's a mix between a Violet and a Black Rose; a 'Black Violet'. Tate stares at the innocent looking flower, so hard, he feels like he begins to shift into his own little world, possibly, quite literally. That's when he begins to hear a familiar voice.  
"Tate! TATE! Where are you?! It's me, it's Violet. I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you in forever, but Nora said she hasn't seen you in weeks. Please come back to me, I love you so much."  
Tate recognises the sweet voice of Violet, and without hesitation, he grips the flower without thinking, smelling the sweet scent of Violet's hair and perfume in the air. He begins to feel the coldness of the basement, something he never thought he'll ever miss.  
"I guess it's time I come back to you, Violet," Tate says to himself, feeling his body corrode away from the Asylum's timeline. "It's clear now, our love Co-Exists, and I'm not going to make any mistakes. No more mistakes. Only our love. We Co-Exist.


End file.
